


Homeland snap fanfics

by hidingupatreeorsomething



Category: Homeland
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-09-20 07:40:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 36
Words: 22,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9481433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hidingupatreeorsomething/pseuds/hidingupatreeorsomething
Summary: Quick speculative scenes, started between s6x01 and s6x02, and moving on from there. See alsohttp://hidingupatreeorsomething.tumblr.com/NEW - Chapter 36: Homeland snap fanfic No.36 - Max writes to John JrMax is such a good man, I thought that after seeing Quinn’s pictures, he might write a letter to John Jr about his dad, for Julia to give him when he’s older. Rather awesomely, when I posted this on Tumblr/Twitter Maury read it and tweeted me to say "This is lovely." Which made me VERY happy.





	1. Homeland snap fanfic no.1 - The Letter

_Carrie’s brownstone. Franny’s playing quietly in the living room. Through in the kitchen, Carrie and Quinn are clearing dishes. A companionable silence, as they finish up._

_Carrie pauses._

CARRIE Quinn… do you remember going to Syria?

QUINN Syria was a shitshow.

CARRIE Yeah.

_(Pause)_

You left me a letter. In case you didn’t make it back.

_(Another pause. Way too long. We can see Quinn remembers, but…)_

In Berlin, when Dar thought you weren’t going to make it…

QUINN I don’t remember.

CARRIE You said some things that meant a lot to me.

QUINN I don’t remember.

CARRIE I… just…

QUINN It was a long time ago.

CARRIE The things you wrote… When I thought you might not recover…

QUINN I didn’t recover Carrie. I’m not the same.

CARRIE We talked about getting out together, Quinn. Before Syria. Well now – we’re both out…

QUINN I can’t be who you want me to be, Carrie.

CARRIE You are. I don’t need you to be perfect. You get me, Quinn. Jesus, nobody else does. We’ve seen each other at our worst. And we’re still here. Drying the fucking dishes together.

_(She approaches him)_

After my dad’s funeral, do you remember what you said to me?

It ends badly. Til it doesn’t.

Maybe now is where it doesn’t.

_She puts a hand softly to his neck. They look straight into each others’ eyes, and really, truly see each other. Gently, they kiss…._


	2. Homeland snap fanfic no.2 - The Big Ask

_A café. MAX and CARRIE sit down with coffees._

CARRIE - Thanks for coming.

MAX - Sure. What is it?

CARRIE - It’s Quinn.

MAX - How is he?

CARRIE - Pretty bad, actually. He had a stroke, so he’s paralysed down his left side.

MAX - Jesus.

CARRIE - His speech is not great - he has a brain injury. And PTSD. And I think he’s having some kind of hallucinations.

MAX - Holy fuck. That’s awful.

CARRIE - Yeah. He was in the VA hospital but he couldn’t stand it. He was about to leave. He was going to end up on the street. So I brought him home.

MAX - You did what? With Franny?

CARRIE - No. He’s in the basement apartment. But I need help with him. I can’t take care of him on my own.

MAX - I don’t know Carrie, I’m not a nurse.

CARRIE - He doesn’t need a nurse. I can take him to the VA for that. He needs someone who knows who he is. Who he was. I can’t be with him all the time.

MAX - Is he violent?

CARRIE …

MAX - Carrie, you know what you’re asking me? He was dangerous before, but at least he was in control. You’re talking about an assassin. If he has PTSD, brain damage, he’s a fucking ticking time bomb.

CARRIE - That’s why I need you, Max.


	3. Homeland snap fanfic No.3: What happened to me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written when we knew the first six lines and no more - finally saw how they did this in s06x02 and of course, theirs was so much better than mine, much tighter and shorter, more emotion packed into far fewer words. But hey.

_Carrie, sitting on the side of Quinn’s bed. Quinn lies there, quiet and confused._

QUINN - What happened to me?

CARRIE - Apparently you had a seizure.

QUINN - No. Before that.

CARRIE - You don’t know?

QUINN - Not exactly.

CARRIE - Well, you came very close to dying. Very, very close. You must know that?

_(He obviously doesn’t)_

Someone must have told you. In therapy?

QUINN - If they did, I don’t remember.

CARRIE - We were in Berlin. Jesus, so many things happened. You got shot. In the stomach. You wouldn’t let me take you to a hospital. You were hiding for days, bleeding out. I think you had an infection.

Then you disappeared.

QUINN - How?

CARRIE - I have no idea. You could barely stand, I don’t know how you got up and walked out of that building, but you did. And you just disappeared.

Somehow, a doctor found you. A Syrian exile. He took you home and treated you. Saved your life – he gave you his own blood, antibiotics, morphine.

Next thing we know, you called Dar.

QUINN - Dar?

CARRIE - He said you seemed fine. He had no idea you’d even been injured. You told him you’d fallen in with some jihadis heading for Syria.

QUINN - Shit…

CARRIE - You remember…?

QUINN - Kind of… _(he’s still confused, it’s bleary)_

CARRIE - Dar said go ahead, do whatever you can.

Are you OK? We can do this another time.

QUINN - I need to sit up.

_She helps him._

CARRIE - Here, have some water. _(He does)_

QUINN - So what happened?

_A long pause. She really can hardly bear to tell him._

QUINN - Tell me, Carrie. How bad can it be? Jesus, I’m living with it now. I’m fucking crippled and I feel like shit. I need to know what happened to me.

CARRIE - They had sarin. The terrorists. They were planning to release it into the U-bahn. They decided to test it on you. To prove they had the capability.

QUINN - Sarin gas?

CARRIE - Yeah.

QUINN - Fuck.

How… I don’t understand… how am I even alive?

CARRIE - It’s pretty fucking miraculous.

One of the terrorists injected you with atropine before they put you in the chamber. Without the others seeing. He saved your life.

_He wants to say something but he can’t put his thoughts together._

They left you there after the attack. We didn’t find you for days. Astrid and I found you. Still in the chamber. We thought you were dead, but… you managed to move a finger and we realised you were still alive. Just.

We got you to the hospital, they put you on a ventilator, in a coma.

While you were there, you had a stroke.

QUINN - This is unbelievable.

CARRIE - The stroke left you with a pretty significant brain injury. The paralysis, struggling for words, the seizures - that’s why. And everything you went through… I guess that’s where the PTSD came from.

QUINN - I don’t remember any of it.

CARRIE - Your brain does, somewhere.

_He’s trying so hard to process all of this. Something occurs to him._

QUINN - How did you find me?

CARRIE - Sorry?

QUINN - In the gas chamber. How did you find me?

_Oh Jesus. Carrie’s not prepared for this. Her horror and reluctance shows._

QUINN - What? How did you find me, Carrie?

CARRIE - We can talk about this another time, Quinn. You’ve heard enough for today.

QUINN - Tell me.

_A pause. How does she say it?_

CARRIE - They filmed it.

QUINN - What?

CARRIE - They put you in the gas chamber, and they filmed you being gassed. They released it on the internet to prove to everyone what they could do.

Astrid and I… we had to watch it. To try and look for any clues, see if you were signalling. The floor tiles were unusual – they led us to you. We found you in a disused barracks.

QUINN - People have seen this…what… video?

CARRIE - Yeah. It was taken down, but it’s out there.

_It’s too much. He cries. Carrie reaches out to him, and holds him, as he sobs._


	4. Homeland snap fanfic No.4 – Cookies and Hot Chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written in response to a request by @keepcalmandquarrieon on Tumblr, after we heard there would to be a scene where Frannie invited Quinn in for cookies and hot chocolate.

_Quinn is sitting on a rickety chair in the garden. Staring into space. Maybe rocking slightly, rhythmically, to himself. Franny appears at the door to the main house, holding a cookie, a little shy but curious. He sees her._

QUINN - Hello.

FRANNY - Are you Peter Quinn?

QUINN - I am.

FRANNY - My name’s Franny.

QUINN - Hello, Franny. Pleased to meet you.

FRANNY - My mommy said you were in the hospital. Are you better now?

_Thinks._

QUINN - Not really.

FRANNY - What are you doing?

QUINN - Nothing much.

What are you doing?

FRANNY - Eating a cookie.

QUINN - That’s… very nice.

_Pause._

Do you have a cookie for me, too?

_She looks shy and awkward._

FRANNY - They’re my cookies!

QUINN - I might feel better if I had a cookie.

FRANNY - I know where mommy keeps them.

QUINN - You wanna bring me one?

FRANNY - Come and have it in my house. You can have hot chocolate too.

QUINN - Ah I don’t think so. I’m not supposed to come up there.

FRANNY - Why not?

_Thinks._

QUINN - That’s your home. And mommy’s. I live down here.

FRANNY - But I said you could.

QUINN - Where’s your mommy?

FRANNY - She’s on the phone.

_Thinks._

QUINN - OK.

_He pulls himself up, walks, with difficulty, towards her. She walks towards him a little, on his left-hand side, looking at him._

FRANNY - Why do you walk like that?

QUINN - Because my leg doesn’t work, I guess.

FRANNY - Shall I hold your hand?

QUINN - My hand doesn’t work either.

_She’s stumped. He holds out his right hand._

QUINN - This one does, though.

_She walks round, takes his right hand, and they walk slowly up the steps to the door, hand in hand, Franny waiting patiently as Quinn pulls himself up one step at a time._


	5. Homeland snap fanfic No.5 - Peanut Butter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written before I'd seen ep 2. I guessed from promos that the seizure might take place in the bodega, which turned out right... the peanut butter argument was a silly touch inspired by the promo pics posted on LJ http://homelandstuff.livejournal.com/24833.html#t863489

_The kitchen of Carrie’s brownstone._

QUINN - Fuck sake Carrie.

CARRIE - You OK?

QUINN - What is this?

CARRIE - Peanut butter – you asked me to get some.

QUINN - It’s fucking crunchy.

CARRIE - That’s what I always get. Franny likes it.

_He picks up the peanut butter and throws it across the room, it smashes against the wall._

CARRIE - Quinn! What the fuck?

QUINN - I don’t. like. crunchy.

CARRIE - Well, then I’ll get some smooth. You don’t have to throw the jar across the room. Now I have to clear that up, there’s glass everywhere. What is wrong with you?

QUINN - What is wrong with me? You want a list?

CARRIE - Go downstairs.

_He heads for the front door_

CARRIE - Where are you going? Come back here.

QUINN - I’m buying smooth.

_She watches him go. Picks up the phone._

CARRIE - Luis? It’s Carrie. I have a friend staying. He’s coming to the shop. Could you… keep an eye out for him? He’s not well. If he does anything weird, would you just call me?

Thank you.

_She sighs and starts to clear up the mess._

——–

_We see Quinn enter the store. Luis clocks him, doesn’t say anything but watches him._

_Quinn walks to the middle aisle. The fridges at the rear suddenly appear illuminated, the shelves go dark… everything distorts. Quinn flinches and his eyes twitch with fear._

_He stumbles against the shelf, knocking things to the floor, tries to hold himself up._

LUIS - You OK, buddy?

_Quinn tries to speak but just a noise comes out… he falls into the shelf again._

_Luis steps out from behind the counter. As he does, Quinn’s knees start to go. His head goes back, his eyes roll up, his hands twist onto his chest, he slides down the shelf and collapses to the floor - goes into a full seizure, limbs in painful spasm, mouth foaming. It’s frightening. Not least because it’s reminiscent of the gas chamber._

_Luis rushes to help him, clears away the fallen groceries from around him, takes his own sweater off and puts it behind Quinn’s head to stop him banging it on the floor. He sits by Quinn, trying to keep him from hurting himself, and pulls his phone from his pocket._

Carrie? Get over here. He’s having a seizure.

\-----------------  
**PART II** A bit of a coda, that didn't make it onto Tumblr - I got a hard time on LJ because the peanut butter prompt was supposed to end in Quarrie make-out, and my version ended in a seizure. So I had to try and turn the juggernaut round and go from seizure to make-out to finish it off! I correctly guessed Quinn would turn down medical help after his seizure, but that wasn't a big surprise, I guess...

_Quinn lies on the floor of the store - the worst of the seizure has subsided but he's not yet regained consciousness. Luis is leaning over, speaking words of comfort softly to him._

_Carrie comes through the door of the store. Panicked._

CARRIE: How is he?

LUIS: He's stopped. But I don't know. He didn't open his eyes yet.

_He moves back and lets Carrie kneel at Quinn's side. She leans down to him, turns her face in line with his, strokes his hair gently._

CARRIE: Quinn? Can you open your eyes? It's me, Carrie.

 _(To Luis)_ Did you call an ambulance?

LUIS: No - I didn't know - sometimes with your guys...

_He trails off... he's obviously dealt with people under the radar for Carrie before._

_Before Carrie can reach for her phone, Quinn stirs._

CARRIE: Quinn?

_He groans_

CARRIE: It's OK, I'm here.

_He tries to move. He's disoriented, confused._

CARRIE: It's OK. Lie still. Lie still a minute, Quinn. It's me. It's Carrie. Here. Can you look at me?

_He manages to still his eyes, his concentration, his eyes rest on her face._

QUINN: _(very slurred)_ \- What happened?

CARRIE: You had a seizure.

QUINN: Where am I?

CARRIE: You're in the store. It's OK, Luis looked after you.

LUIS: You want me to call an ambulance?

CARRIE: Yes

QUINN: NO.

CARRIE: Quinn, you need to see a doctor

QUINN: NOOO

_He struggles to sit up, to get away, is becoming agitated and tries to push Carrie away, but he's confused and uncoordinated._

QUINN: NOOO

CARRIE: Sit down - sit down, you're going to fall over. Jesus.

QUINN: I'm not going to the hospital.

CARRIE: OK, OK. Just sit. Look - nobody's calling an ambulance. Sit down.

_He does._

_Luis goes to the door and puts the closed sign up._

LUIS: You can stay here. Until you're ready to go home.

CARRIE: Thank you, Luis.

\----

_Quinn's bedroom. Luis has helped Carrie walk him home. They get Quinn on the bed._

LUIS: You gonna be OK? You want me to stay?

CARRIE: No Luis. Thank you. I'll let him rest.

_He leaves._

_Quinn lies on the bed, watching Carrie but not speaking._

_She undoes the Velcro shoes and puts them on the floor, gently removes the splint from his leg, pulls the cover over him._

_Sits on the edge of the bed next to him. Runs a finger gently through his fringe._

CARRIE: How do you feel?

QUINN: I don't know.

CARRIE: You should get some sleep.

_She gets up to go._

QUINN: Don't leave me.

CARRIE: OK.

_She goes back to the bed, instead of sitting on the edge by him, goes to sit on the empty side. As she does, he lifts the cover to invite her underneath._

_She pauses, unsure, then goes with it._

_She gets into bed beside him, pauses for a moment, wondering if she should - then lies down and reaches around his shoulders, cradles him in her arms. He relaxes into her arms, closes his eyes - a moment of total relief._

CARRIE: You had me worried back there.

QUINN: I'm sorry.

CARRIE: Don't be sorry. You couldn't help it.

QUINN: I like this.

CARRIE: What?

QUINN: You holding me.

CARRIE: Me too.

_He rolls over to face her. A moment._

CARRIE: We shouldn't do this while you're sick.

QUINN: I'm always sick. We should do it anyway.

_She leans in. A pause. They kiss._


	6. Homeland snap fanfic No.6 - Checking out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A response to a prompt on wthomeland - “Does anyone of you talented fanfic authors want to write a short story what happens in the gap between Quinn getting restrained at the VA and Carrie showing him his apartment (ep 6x01)?”

CARRIE - No wait, stop it!

You’re hurting him! Let him go!

_DeMarco lets go of Quinn’s arm and Quinn slumps further to the floor. Carrie drops to her knees and holds him. He’s shaking in pain and fear, and rests his head on her shoulder. She puts an arm around him, raises the other to his head, strokes his hair, speaks in his ear._

CARRIE - It’s OK. It’s OK.

_(To the guards)_ What is wrong with you? Is this how you treat all your patients?

DEMARCO - He was non-compliant.

CARRIE - It’s OK Quinn, it’s OK.

QUINN - _(Slurred, tearful, to Carrie)_ I can’t stay here.

CARRIE - I know. We’ll work something out. Don’t worry. We’ll work it out.

_He sits up a little. She wipes a tear from his cheek with her thumb. He’s clutching his left arm with his right._

Are you in pain? Did they hurt you?

_Eyes down, he can’t admit to it to her, but he clearly is._

Could you get me a doctor, please? He needs some pain relief.

DEMARCO - Ma’am, we have protocols.

CARRIE - You’ve just attacked a vulnerable patient. I am asking you to get me some medical help.

_DeMarco, reluctantly, radios for a doctor. Carrie notices the entire lobby watching._

CARRIE - What are you all looking at?

_(To the other guard)_ Will you help me get him on his feet, please?

_They help Quinn to stand, the guard starts to lead him to a chair in the waiting area._

We need to go somewhere more private than this.

_He looks questioningly to DeMarco. DeMarco rolls his eyes and nods, gestures to a room off the corridor. They lead Quinn in – it is a small room with a table. Quinn sits down, still scared and in pain, holding his left arm, looking at the floor._

_Carrie sits in the other chair. She looks at Quinn but doesn’t know what to say._

_A doctor enters._

DOCTOR - Miss Mathison? What can I do for you?

CARRIE - I need to check Peter out.

_Quinn looks up at her – he didn’t see this coming. It’s his innocent, child-like face – total surprise._

DOCTOR - I’m sorry?

CARRIE - Your guards just assaulted him in the front of the hospital that is supposed to be taking care of him. I am not leaving him here.

DOCTOR - Well, it’s not as simple as that, I’m afraid.

CARRIE - Your nurse told me herself that this is not a prison. He’s not obliged to be here. He’s clearly not safe here – I just found him bleeding and high in a filthy brothel when he was supposed to be in your care.

What are my options?

DOCTOR - If you want to sign him out to your care, you can. There are outpatient programmes. But Peter needs consistent care. He still has a lot of work to do in physio, and his seizures are not under control. I do not recommend/

CARRIE - _(interupts)_ I don’t care what you recommend. I’m not listening to this hospital’s recommendations after what I’ve seen today.

_Doctor purses lips._

DOCTOR - I’ll fetch some paperwork.

CARRIE - Could you also bring him some pain relief, please? Your guards twisted his bad arm behind his back – forcefully. He’s in pain.

_The doctor nods and leaves, unimpressed._

_Quinn glances up at Carrie._

CARRIE - I have a basement apartment. You can stay there. For now.

QUINN - _(Mumbled)_ Thanks.

_They sit._

_Quinn’s left arm, still up til now, suddenly stiffens and twists. He moans in pain._

CARRIE - You OK? Is it a spasm? 

_Quinn doesn’t want to look at her, to acknowledge his need to her, but he nods, eyes averted, wincing in pain._

_Carrie moves quickly across to him, rolls his sleeve up, starts to rub his arm, gently soothing it and stretching it, talking softly. She’s obviously done this before. She works her way down to the hand and fingers, all stiff with tension. Gradually it eases a little. She is left holding his hand as the muscle spasm passes. But she doesn’t let go. She keeps hold of his hand and continues to stroke it gently._

_They wait._


	7. Homeland snap fanfic No.7 - Getting Quinn Clean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As read and tweeted by Maury Sterling with the comment "This is great." - high point of my young fanfic career!
> 
> A response to a suggestion on LJ for a fanfic about Carrie taking Quinn upstairs for a bath. Also just a great excuse to revisit one of my favourite Homeland lines of all time, from s2x07 :)

_The basement. Morning. Quinn is sitting on the bed, staring into space. No radio today. Carrie knocks on the bedroom door, puts her head around it._

CARRIE - Hey.

QUINN - Hey.

CARRIE - How you feeling today?

QUINN - I took ‘em.

CARRIE - What?

QUINN - The pills.

That’s what you came down for, isn’t it?

CARRIE - The primidone?

_Nods._

CARRIE - I’m impressed. Baclofen?

_Shakes his head._

One step at a time, I guess.

_Pause._

Quinn.

_Looks at her._

You really do have to take a shower.

_Pause. He doesn’t want to talk about this._

You can’t carry on like this.

QUINN - Carrie, stop it.

CARRIE - What is it?

QUINN - Just leave it.

CARRIE - I’ve left it for a week. It’s not getting any better.

QUINN - I can’t take a fucking shower, Carrie.

CARRIE - What are you talking about?

QUINN - Go in there.

CARRIE - Is there something wrong? It was working last time…

QUINN - Go in.

_She does._

QUINN - See?

_She reaches in and switches it on._

It’s working, Quinn, there’s nothing wrong with/

QUINN - _(Shouting)_ Turn it off.

CARRIE - What?

_Panicking, as hurriedly as he can in his state, he gets up, stumbles into the bathroom and to the shower, almost falling over in his urgency._

QUINN - TURN IT OFF!

_He leans straight in to turn it off, not caring how wet he gets. Backs away quickly, turns away from the shower, slumps against the wall, eyes twitching, body twitching, hyperventilating, only one step from screaming._

_The penny suddenly drops for Carrie. It looks – and sounds – just like a little gas chamber._

CARRIE - Fuck.

Jesus, Quinn, I’m sorry…

I didn’t….

_She goes to take his arm. He flinches, but then lets her. She leads him out, back to the bed, sits him down, sits alongside him and puts an arm around him. He’s helpless enough that he lets her, rests his head on her shoulder._

_Time passes._

CARRIE - I have a bath upstairs. Would that be as bad?

QUINN - Might be OK.

CARRIE - Let’s see. Come sit in the kitchen while I run it.

_They go upstairs._

—–

_The bathroom. Door’s mostly closed, just a tiny bit ajar. The bath’s run. Toilet seat’s down, Quinn’s sitting on it, has been undressing himself. Bottom half done, there’s a towel over his lap, he laboriously manages to get his shirt off, throws it on the floor with the rest of his clothes. Stands. Looks at the bath. Thinks. No way. Struggles, but manages, to wrap the towel round his waist. Looks towards the door._

QUINN - Carrie.

CARRIE - _(from the other side of the door – she’s obviously been waiting right there)_ You OK?

QUINN - I can’t get in.

_Carrie comes in._

CARRIE - I’ll help you. Here. Sit on the side.

_He goes to sit._

CARRIE - You’re gonna have to take the towel off.

_He looks at her, eyebrows raised._

CARRIE - Like I’ve never seen a dick before.

_Eyebrows even higher, startled._

CARRIE - _(Laughing)_ I’m sorry! You said that to me once.

_He doesn’t quite know how to react._

CARRIE - I’m sorry. That was a long time ago. Actually, that was the first time I saw you refuse medical treatment.

Never mind.

Come on, let’s get you in.

I cannot wait to see you clean.


	8. Homeland snap fanfic No.8 - Belligerent Bromance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max is a mensch. I wrote him talking sense to Quinn.

_Coffee shop. Quinn’s seated. Max brings over two coffees and sits opposite._

MAX - So what you gonna do?

QUINN - When?

MAX - About your life.

QUINN - Jesus.

MAX - It’s pretty shitty right now.

_Quinn stares at his coffee._

You just gonna carry on?

QUINN - What dyou suggest, Max? You got a fucking miracle for me?

MAX - No.

You know, you have friends.

QUINN - Fuck that.

MAX - I don’t want you to live like this. Astrid doesn’t. Christ knows Carrie doesn’t, even if she’s a pain in the ass. You don’t want help, how else you gonna get out of this?

_Quinn sips his coffee. Glares._

MAX - You can spend the rest of your life… crippled, and having seizures ‘cause you’re too fucked up to take your meds, or you can let us pay for you to get help. You know, next time you’re convulsing on the floor, I’m not gonna be there, and you’re gonna get taken to the hospital whether you want it or not.

QUINN - I had help. At the VA.

MAX - Yeah, well the VA was a shithole.

QUINN - I had help. Made no difference. I’m just the same.

MAX - You’re really not. I saw you six months ago. You were practically mute. Ironically.

_A raised eyebrow from Quinn. He might not remember everything, but he remembers calling Max a mute._

…they were spooning puree into your mouth and pushing you round in a wheelchair.

QUINN - Fuck you.

MAX - Do the work, you’ll get better. Better than this, anyway. A decent physio. One-to-one therapy. We can get you that. What else you gonna do?

_Quinn gets up to leave_

QUINN - I don’t need your help.

_As he goes to leave, his left arm knocks his coffee over. He tries to catch it with his right hand, it puts him off balance, his foot catches on the chair leg and he falls to the floor. The coffee that’s spilling across the table pours over the edge onto him. He slumps against the table leg in resignation._

QUINN - Motherfucker.

MAX - Seriously, man. Let us help you.


	9. Homeland snap fanfic No.9 - When Clarice left Quinn in the Bath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last bath scene went down well, so here’s another. But I think I liked the other one better – that ended up quite sweetly, this just turned out brutal :/
> 
> One day imma stop torturing Quinn, but today is not that day. Where Homeland leads, I follow - not my fault, man.

_A small, shitty apartment. One room is bedroom, kitchen, everything. Clarice leads Quinn in through the door._

CLARICE - OK, baby, are you ready for some fun?

QUINN - You betcha…

_She pulls close, goes to stroke his chest and reach into his pants. Recoils._

CLARICE - Man. You should maybe take a bath.

QUINN - OK.

CLARICE - Want me to run you one?

_Nods._

_She wanders off. Quinn sits on the bed. The bath starts running in the next room. Clarice comes back. Pulls a pipe from her pocket._

CLARICE - I got you this like Clarence said. You got me another hundred?

_He reaches into his pocket, hands her a wad of notes. She peels one off. Looks at him. Peels another. Is counting on him not knowing or caring how much she’s taking. He doesn’t. She peels more. Puts some of the money back in his pocket._

CLARICE - Here ya go, baby.  
_  
She gives him a smoke. He lies back on the bed. Clarice leaves the room._

_Time passes._

_The bath stops running, Clarice comes back in._

CLARICE - Hey soldier, bath’s ready.

_He smiles from the bed. Stoned._

CLARICE - You coming?

QUINN - OK.

_He raises an arm for help. She pulls him up. Walks him to the bathroom._

_Clarice undresses Quinn. It’s not a sensual undressing. More like parent and child. Matter of fact. As she removes each item of clothing, she tries not to breathe, arm’s length, throws it in a pile in the corner, until he’s naked apart from the splint. Takes that off too and throws it aside._

CLARICE - OK. You’re ready.

_He leans in to grab her._

CLARICE - After your bath.

_Pushes him away._

_It’s only two steps to the bath but he limps even more without the splint on, his left foot loose and turning in and down._

_Sits on the edge of the bath._

CLARICE - You OK?

QUINN - I don’t know.

CLARICE - Here.  
_  
She leans in. He puts his right arm round her neck, she lifts his left leg over the side and into the bath. He swings his right leg over into the water, hangs on Clarice’s neck and they lower him in. Slips halfway, drops with a bump. They both laugh. Clarice helps him sit up straight. She hands him soap and a filthy washcloth._

QUINN - You coming?  
_  
Shakes her head and backs off._

CLARICE - You get clean first, honey.

_Clumsily, he starts to wash himself._

_The door to the apartment opens. Clarice turns with a start._

CLARICE - Tommy?

_She goes out._

TOMMY - C’mere

CLARICE - I’m busy.

TOMMY - I said c’mere.

CLARICE - Hey.

TOMMY - We gotta ship out.

CLARICE - I got a customer.

TOMMY - I don’t care. I gotta be somewhere.

CLARICE - So you go, I’ll see you back here.

TOMMY - You gotta come too. I got someone you gotta meet.

_He grabs her. Aggressive. Kisses her. It’s a threat as much as anything. Holds onto her hair._

TOMMY - C’mon. We’re going. We don’t got time to mess about.

_He shoves her towards the front door._

_She takes a backward glance towards the bathroom. From where they stand, Quinn can’t be seen. Rolls her eyes. This kinda shit’s always happening._

CLARICE - OK, Tommy. Whatever you say.

———–

_Clarence outside the main door of the apartment. Uncomfortable. Knocks. No response. He shoves the door. It’s so flimsy it opens._

CLARENCE - Hello?

_Nothing._

CLARENCE - Peter?

_A small noise from the bathroom. A whimper, a yelp._

_Clarence, careful, not sure what he’s going to find, heads for the bathroom door. Looks round._

_Quinn is lying in the water. Relief for a second._

CLARENCE - Jesus, man.

_Then he clocks Quinn properly. He’s not just shivering but shuddering with the cold. Almost convulsing. Pale but with deep red rings under his eyes, staring fixed forward. His right hand curled up against his chest trying to keep warm, his left side submerged._

CLARENCE - How long you been in here?

_He puts a hand on the back of Quinn’s shoulders. So cold._

CLARENCE - Fuck. Don’t tell me you been in here since yesterday? Clarice just leave you here?

_No response._

CLARENCE - That girl is fucked up.

_Takes Quinn’s right arm._

CLARENCE - Come on man, you gotta get out.

_Quinn can’t respond._

_Clarence manages to get behind Quinn, puts his arms under his armpits, with brute force drags him out of the bath onto the floor, where he lies, still shuddering. There’s no towel._

_Clarence goes out, comes back with a filthy bedspread. Roughly rubs Quinn dry with it. Pulls on Quinn’s disgusting clothes. Takes off his own coat and puts it on Quinn._

CLARENCE - Right, come on.

_He grabs Quinn under the arm and drags him to his feet. Quinn manages to stand, but is still shaking, staring straight ahead, needs Clarence to lead him. First step, he stumbles badly, has to grab the wall to stop himself falling, and stops._

CLARENCE - What is it?

_Quinn looks at his left leg, points at his foot, which is at a weird angle._

CLARENCE - What?

QUINN - _(Faintly)_ That thing.

CLARENCE - Fuck. You are a lot of work.

_He looks around. Quinn’s splint is on the floor, almost behind the toilet. Clarence pulls it out. Brushes off some pubes, God knows what else. Kneels in front of Quinn, who holds onto Clarence’s head. This is a well-worn routine - Clarence has dressed him before. He lifts Quinn’s left leg, wrenches off his shoe, puts the splint on – it’s like someone shoeing a horse. Fastens everything. Puts the foot down._

CLARENCE - Right, come on.

_Quinn is still pretty vacant, white and shivery. Doesn’t move. Clarence grabs his arm._

CLARENCE - I am in so much shit. Anyone asks, you fell asleep in the park OK?

_No response._

CLARENCE - OK?

QUINN - Park.

CLARENCE - OK.

_Bundles Quinn out the door._


	10. Homeland snap fanfic No.10 - Drinks with #Quax

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little more of the bromance of the moment. I wondered what Max had said to Quinn when they got home after the seizure to put him in such a thoughtful frame of mind by the end of 6x02.

_Quinn and Max walk back from the bodega after the seizure. Even slower than usual. Max carrying the bags._

_They reach the steps to the basement. Quinn stands at the top and sways. His balance is way out._

MAX - You OK?

_Quinn struggles to focus, his eyes casting about. Lowers his left leg down. Stumbles. Max reaches forward to steady him, Quinn pulls away._

QUINN - Let go of me.

MAX - You’re gonna fall down the steps.

_Quinn pulls away more forcefully, doing that puts him off balance the other way and he hits the railings, has to grab hold of them. Stops still._

QUINN - I think I’m gonna throw up.

MAX - Sit down.

_Max takes his arm again, more gently – this time Quinn is so dizzy he has no choice but to go with it. Max helps him to sit on the steps, sits down next to him, puts the bags down in front of them. Quinn bends forward and puts his head down towards his knees._

_A few moments._

_Quinn lifts his head. Rubs his face. Looks at the bags. Pulls out a beer can._

MAX - Seriously?

_Quinn offers it to Max. Max shakes his head._

_Quinn tries to hold the can under his left arm so he can open it with his right hand. Can’t hold it tight enough. Tries again. Max is watching. Rolls his eyes. Puts his hand out. Quinn hands him the can, Max opens it and hands it back._

_Quinn goes to drink from it. The smell makes him retch. Fuck sake. He throws the can to the floor._

QUINN - Can’t even fucking drink my way outta this shit.

_A pause._

MAX - Does it hurt?

_Quinn looks at Max. Not sure how to answer._

MAX - All this… _(gestures at Quinn’s left side)._

_A pause. Quinn doesn’t want to share. But… well… maybe he does. Nobody ever asks him. Carrie certainly never does. He nods._

QUINN - _(Waves at his left side)_ This side – always. The rest – sometimes. After a seizure, like a motherfucker. Like someone set me on fire.

MAX – Jesus.

You know there’s some tramadol in the kitchen with your name on it?

QUINN - You think I can’t speak right now, you should hear me after tramadol. 

Cures the pain, kills the brain.

MAX - You guys had some cute sayings at the VA.

QUINN - It was that kind of place.

_A pause._

MAX - Being in pain every day. That’s pretty shitty.

QUINN - _(Nods)_ That’s why I’m such a ray of sunshine, Max.

MAX - Carrie’s a brave woman.

_A questioning look from Quinn._

MAX - She’s got a serious job, a little kid. She didn’t have to bring you here.

QUINN - _(He’s not defensive like he was this morning. Max, by asking about his pain, has got through his defenses. He thinks. Asks a genuine question)._ So why’d she do it?

MAX - Guess she must like you.

QUINN - I’m pretty likeable.

MAX - You’d be more likeable if we’d got those baby wipes.

_Stands, offers Quinn a hand._

Cmon. If you can’t drink it off, I think you should sleep it off.

_Pulls Quinn up. Quinn walks past him to the door._

QUINN - _(without looking round)_ Bring the beers.


	11. Homeland snap fanfic No.11 - After the Hug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Holding is OK, so my God, they are gonna hold the fuck out of each other…”
> 
> This started out as “the conversation this pair might have after the hug if they were just a little more damn emotionally literate and able to say the right thing at the right time to one another for once” but now it’s written, I think they’re possibly in just as confusing and ambiguous a place at the end as they were at the beginning…

_Quinn sits in the basement._

_Carrie comes down with a bag of shopping. She doesn’t meet his eye, goes straight to the kitchen cupboards. Starts loading food into the cupboard._

CARRIE - I bought you some food. Nothing much, just some breakfast cereal, some bread.

QUINN - Carrie.

_She looks round – he’s stood up, and is walking across to the kitchen._

QUINN - I’m sorry.

CARRIE - It’s OK Quinn, you don’t have to…

QUINN - I didn’t mean to…

CARRIE - I know.

_She’s feeling awkward, but OK, let’s go with this._

CARRIE - I just… I really was not expecting that this morning. I was getting Franny ready, I heard you screaming.

QUINN - I just… I don’t know… I don’t know anything now. I thought…

CARRIE - It’s OK.

_He can’t look her in the eye, but he has to say this._

QUINN - When you held me. It was…

CARRIE - I know. Look….

_She goes to take his hand, has a moment of doubt, then does it._

CARRIE - You’re still so sick…

QUINN - I’m OK.

CARRIE - You just said yourself, you don’t know anything right now. You’re having night terrors, and seizures, you’re coming off medication, your brain is changing every day… I mean… everything’s kind of difficult for you right now, isn’t it?

_He can’t acknowledge it. Looks away._

CARRIE - I can’t take advantage of you. And I don’t want to hurt you. I have a lot going on – my work is insane, I have to take care of Franny.

QUINN - OK. _(pause)_ I can move out…

_He goes to pull away but she keeps hold of his hand._

CARRIE - You don’t have to do that.

_A pause. She’s looking intently at him, he’s looking at the floor. She tries to say something but doesn’t know what._

_She puts her other hand to his cheek, strokes it with her thumb. It’s hard to tell if it’s fond or sexual. Both. She doesn’t really know herself._

_He finally looks at her - they look each other in the eye._

_She can’t help it. She leans forward. Rests her forehead against his lips. Very tentatively, he takes his hand from hers, raises it, strokes her hair._

QUINN - When you held me though. It was good, right?

_She smiles, a slight laugh. Lifts her face to look up at him._

CARRIE - It was. It was good.

_She leans in again and they hold each other. They both want this but they both have a line to keep, and they keep to it. Holding is OK, so my God, they are gonna hold the fuck out of each other._

_Eventually, Carrie pulls gently away._

CARRIE - Listen. You wanna come meet Franny?

_He’s a little surprised. So surprised he actually almost smiles at her. Nods._

QUINN - OK.


	12. Homeland snap fanfic No. 12 - A meeting at Carina’s

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About time I wrote some Quinning. Total speculation on this one, but I so wanted to write these two together (and I don’t mean Quinn and The Guy – read on…)

_The street outside Carrie’s house. Quinn has just seen The Guy across the road go back into his apartment. He’s sure The Guy is surveilling Carrie’s place - this time he’s had enough. He follows him back across the street._

_The main door is open – Quinn walks up to the apartment, knocks on the door, steps aside._

_The Guy opens the door – sees no one there. Quinn steps out and puts the gun to his forehead.  
_

QUINN - Inside, motherfucker.

\---

_Inside the flat. The Guy sits in a chair in the middle of the room. Quinn, gun in hand, leans against the window, looking out at Carrie’s place._

THE GUY - I don’t know what you’re talking about.

QUINN - I know you’re watching her. I’m there every day. I’ve seen you. I’ve _heard_ you.

THE GUY - You’re dreaming, man, there’s something wrong with you.

_Quinn lashes out suddenly with the butt of the gun, hits him in the side of the head – blood trickles down. The Guy reels._

QUINN - Why are you watching her?

THE GUY - I’m working for a guy.

QUINN - What guy?

THE GUY - I don’t know his name.

QUINN - You got his number? 

_He nods._

QUINN - Call him.

THE GUY - What?

QUINN - Call him. I wanna meet him.

THE GUY - You gotta be kidding me, man…

QUINN - You want me to do the other side?

_The Guy looks down. Clearly not._

QUINN - Call him.

\---

_The Guy hangs up his phone_.

THE GUY - He’ll meet you. Carina’s. Couple of blocks from here. Give him an hour. He’ll be at the bar.

\---

_Carina’s._

_Quinn enters._

_There’s someone at the bar, as promised._

_It’s Dar._

DAR - Peter.

QUINN - What the fuck?

DAR - How are you?

QUINN - You? 

DAR - It’s good to see you.

QUINN - That fuckwad is working for you?

DAR - Let’s talk about that later. Have a drink. How is your recovery? 

QUINN - My recovery? Where the fuck were you?

DAR - I’m sorry?

QUINN - I was in the VA for six months.

DAR - I have a busy life, Peter. I didn’t think you needed me to babysit you.

QUINN - I nearly died. Working for you.

DAR - I was there, Peter. By your bed. Before you regained consciousness. And after, actually. I came several times in those first weeks you were awake.

_Quinn is wrong-footed by this. He doesn’t remember much about those weeks - he knows he was a mess._

DAR - You won’t remember of course. You were in a bad way. I thought you’d rather not be part of a circus while you learned how to sit upright. Learning to talk and walk again. Nobody needs an audience for that.

QUINN - Motherfucker.

DAR - You’re still in PT, I take it?

QUINN - What?

DAR - I just saw you walk in. I assume you’re still in PT?

QUINN - I could still break your neck right now if I wanted to.

_A moment. Dar remembers the headlock Quinn had him in before. He doesn’t **think** he could do it in his current state… but he’s not sure._

DAR - Let’s take a seat… 

_He gets up to move to a more comfortable spot – a booth rather than a bar stool._

_Quinn eyes him with suspicion._

DAR - You’ve just walked here from Carrie’s. You must need to sit down.

_Quinn seethes. This feels like a slight. But it’s true. He’s tired.  
_

_They sit._


	13. Homeland snap fanfic No. 13 - If he hadn’t been so handsy…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another in the “How would this go if Quarrie were just a bit more emotionally eloquent?” series.
> 
> This time, what if Quinn had kept his hand outside Carrie’s shirt during The Hug, they’d had a proper conversation about the ’mare, and Franny had come into the bedroom…

  
_They rock._

CARRIE - Just breathe.

_He rests his head into her. Holds tight. He feels so secure. First time he can remember._

_Eventually, she loosens her arms. Sits back. She runs a finger through his hair, lifts it from his eyes._

CARRIE - You OK?

_He nods._

CARRIE - What was it?

_His eyes down._

CARRIE - It’s OK. You don’t have to tell me.

QUINN - The shower.

CARRIE - In there? _(She gestures to the basement shower)_

QUINN - This guy… I couldn’t get out, it was the gas _(looks for the word)_ …room. Couldn’t breathe, just… fell down, shaking, like, foam, a guy with a mask and… fuck…

_His voice breaks._

_She reaches to him – a hand on each arm, and dips her face in front of his._

CARRIE - It’s OK. It was a dream. It’s gone.

_He nods._

CARRIE - Have you had it before?

QUINN - Not that.

CARRIE - You’ve had others?

QUINN - Just dark mostly. Can’t breathe. Whole body’s gonna explode but I can’t take a breath. Can’t move.

CARRIE - What did they do at the VA when you had nightmares?

QUINN - Nothing.

_Carrie’s shocked._

CARRIE - Nothing?

QUINN - Sometimes a nurse came. Woke me up. Left. I just lay there. Or I sat in the chair, stop me going back to sleep.

CARRIE - Shit. Did you tell your therapist?

QUINN - Once.

_No more to say. Presumably telling the therapist led nowhere useful._

_Pause._

CARRIE - I shouldn’t have shown you that video.

QUINN - I wanted to.

CARRIE - If I’d known it would make the dreams worse…

QUINN - Not worse. Just different. 

CARRIE - I know you don’t want to hear this Quinn, but I think you should see a therapist again. _(He pulls away from her_ ) You don’t have to go back to the VA, there are other people you can talk to.

QUINN - No. 

CARRIE - If you’re going to start remembering, you need some help. You went through hell. If that’s coming back…

QUINN - I don’t want to talk to anyone. You talk to me. That’s enough.

CARRIE - You can always talk to me. But I’m not a therapist. I don’t know how PTSD works. This could fuck you up for a long time.

We all saw those guys in the CIA, Quinn. Just keeping a lid on it but a hair’s breadth from cracking. I don’t want that for you.

_Those six words move him – he suddenly looks directly into her eyes._

CARRIE - Let me find someone. Get you past it.

FRANNY - _(At the door)_ Mommy?

CARRIE - Honey… you shouldn’t be down here.

FRANNY - Why was he screaming?

CARRIE - He had a bad dream, sweetie. Like you do sometimes.

FRANNY - When you have a bad dream, Mommy has to kiss your forehead to make it go away.

_Quinn raises his eyebrows, a half smile._

_Carrie’s embarrassed._

CARRIE - That’s what I do to her, when she has a bad dream.

QUINN - Sounds good to me.

CARRIE - His dream went away already, Franny.

FRANNY - You can have one of mine.

_Franny kisses her hand and blows it to Quinn._

_He touches his forehead._

QUINN - Thank you, Franny. I think that got me.

_Carrie cannot hide her joy, grinning ear to ear. She tries to pull herself back together._

CARRIE - OK! Come on, let’s get you to school, young lady, we’re going to be late. Go get your bag.

_Franny goes._

QUINN - She’s cute.

CARRIE - Yeah. Look. Will you think about the therapist? Please? Just consider it. We can talk later.

QUINN - I’ll do it.

CARRIE - Seriously?

_He nods._

CARRIE - I’ll make some calls. We’ll sort it out, it’ll be OK. 

_Her phone starts to vibrate. She puts it off._

Look, I’m gonna be gone all day. You want me to call Max?

QUINN - No. I’m fine.

CARRIE - OK. Call me if you need anything, promise?

QUINN - Yes. Go.

_Carrie heads up the stairs, we hear Franny in the distance_. 

FRANNY - I made him better, mommy.

CARRIE - You did, that was very good.

_Quinn smiles._


	14. Homeland snap fanfic No. 14 - When Astrid Arrived

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the promo still of Astrid from 6x07, getting out of the car and looking - dunno - serious, shocked, upset? All three? 
> 
> I figured the only thing that could do that would be seeing Quinn for the first time since Berlin, and I wondered what they’d say to each other.

 

_Astrid pulls up at the cabin. As she gets out of the car, she sees Quinn walking slowly, awkwardly, across the deck. She’s shocked by his struggle, his appearance. Doesn’t quite have time to hide it before he looks up and sees her._

QUINN - Hey. 

ASTRID - Peter. 

_He looks down at himself._

QUINN - Pretty fucked up. 

_Starts to walk across to her._  

ASTRID - I’m sorry? 

QUINN - You’re shocked.

ASTRID - No. It’s not… _(she can’t deny it)_ … I didn’t know what to expect. 

_He shrugs at her, gestures at himself as if to say “this is it"_

ASTRID - How do you feel? 

QUINN - Fine. 

_She looks at him unbelievingly. One big question mark. He’s so clearly not fine._

_He regards her._

QUINN - Can’t walk properly, arm doesn’t work. Get headaches and seizures. If you stay tonight I’ll probably wake you up screaming. 

ASTRID - Fuck. 

QUINN - You asked. 

_He’s reached her. They hug._  

ASTRID - I’m sorry. I should have been in touch. 

QUINN - It’s OK. It’s not like _I’ve_ been writing letters. Cmon. Dar brought Chinese. 

ASTRID - Dar’s here? 

QUINN - And Max. It’s quite a party.

ASTRID - How did they get you here? Carrie said you were in custody.

QUINN - _(matter of fact)_ I think they kidnapped me.

ASTRID - _(shocked)_ Did they do that to your face?

QUINN - That was the cops. Long story. Come inside.

_He starts to walk back to the cabin. Stumbles on the uneven ground. She instinctively lifts her hand to his arm to steady him, pauses, and keeps it there, her hand looped lightly through his arm. They pause a split second. This is OK. Not totally helping him, not totally sexual. Just contact. Which they both want from each other. They walk._

 

 


	15. Homeland snap fanfic No.15 - Dar Gives a Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I figured if Carrie had struggled to motivate Quinn, maybe Dar would do it. There’s a language they share, and it’s not one that involves many words.

_Evening. Quinn is on the deck outside the cabin._

_Dar is at his vehicle. He lifts something out, walks back to the cabin. Steps onto the deck and holds up a small black case to Quinn._

DAR - I brought you this.

_Quinn’s face lights up a little. He knows what it is. Just seeing it, receiving it from Dar, makes him stand straighter._

_He takes the case, puts it on the table. Opens it._

_A Glock._

_Quinn takes it out. Puts it on the table. Takes the silencer from the case. Puts it on the table. And a magazine. Looks at it all. Thinks._

_Dar watches, silent._

_Quinn sits. Puts the gun on his lap, lifts his left arm onto it and tries to hold it down while he screws the silencer in with his right hand. His left arm isn’t strong enough – the gun slips and the silencer falls to the floor._

_No fuss, no eye contact, Dar picks it up, puts it back on the table._

_Quinn does the same again. It falls again._

QUINN - Motherfucker.

_He slumps. This is fucking useless._

_Dar picks it up. Puts it back on the table. Still no eye contact._

DAR - It will get better, Peter.

QUINN - I don’t think so.

DAR - Don’t give up.

_Quinn looks defeated. A pause. Give up, or try, yet again, in front of his mentor, to do what was once second nature, risk dropping it again and looking even more useless than he already feels?_

_OK. He takes the Glock, puts it between his upper left arm and the side of his chest. He’s stronger there. Can grip it. Screws the silencer in. Picks up the magazine, slots it in. Takes the gun in his right hand. Stands and walks to the edge of the deck. Fires into the woods. Hits the tree he was aiming at square in the middle of the trunk._

_Behind him, Dar smiles._


	16. Homeland snap fanfic No.16 - Can I hold this one?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Totally shameless Quinn & Franny cuteness :)  
> I seem to be writing so much on Quinn’s physical frailties! But it’s such a big part of what we’ve seen of him so far this season, and they provide such a great route into exploring his wider vulnerabilities, not something we’ve seen much of before. And seeing him and all the other characters getting used to Quinn 2.0 is kinda fascinating to think through. So here’s another. Also - Franny and Quinn - can’t go wrong!

_They’re playing on the stairs again. Franny clambering about, Quinn watching, but he’s getting tired of this game, wants to encourage her attention elsewhere._

QUINN - C'mon, Franny, let’s go do some colouring.

_He holds out his right hand to her._

_She stands up and comes down the stairs, looking a little sly and thoughtful. Puts a hand towards his left hand._

FRANNY - Can I hold this one?

_He’s a little nervous. This hand - so vulnerable - feels like private property. But how can he say no?_

QUINN - OK. Be gentle.

_She takes his hand, gently as requested, and plays with it a little, moving his fingers around, feeling how different it is from the other one._

_Quinn watches her. So much going on in his head and his heart. He feels so exposed, to have someone exploring his disability so intimately - but he also feels so un-judged. It’s simple curiosity on Franny’s part._

FRANNY - What’s wrong with it?

_He looks thoughtful. What to say?_

QUINN - Can I sit?

_She nods._

_He sits on the stairs, she joins him, sits on his left side, still holding his hand and playing with it._

QUINN - It just doesn’t work, I guess. I can’t move it.

FRANNY - Even if you try really hard?

QUINN - Even if I try really hard.

_She keeps playing but looks at their hands, not at his face. She thinks a while._

FRANNY - That’s sad.

_He suddenly really feels how sad it is. But he doesn’t want to make Franny sad._

QUINN - Yeah. But it’s OK. I’m learning how to do everything with this hand.

_He wiggles his right hand at her._

FRANNY - I can help you. I’ve got two hands and they both work.

_She puts his hand down on her knee, holds both her own hands up proudly._

QUINN - Thank you, Franny. That’s very kind.

_She lifts his left arm up and ducks underneath it, wraps it around her shoulders, holds onto his hand and snuggles into his side, looks up at him questioningly, not totally sure if this is OK._

_He looks down at her and smiles. She giggles. She kisses the back of his hand, kissing it better, showing she’s not scared of it. He can’t hug her with his paralysed arm, but she’s doing a pretty good job for both of them. He leans in towards her instead. They snuggle._


	17. Homeland snap fanfic. No.17 - From The Hug to Snack Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, there’s a big ole gap between The Hug and Snack Time, which in the timeline seems to be only overnight, but during which a lot seems to have happened. Quinn and Franny became bezza mates, Quinn got clean, he first told Carrie about the man across the street. This is not exactly the cookie scene (nature of snack: unspecified!), but is an attempt to fill in all those gaps in the time allowed, and make that sudden jump to “Hiiii Peter!” in 6x04 seem less weird.
> 
> Dedicated to @sheeasternshine for this totally lovely Tweet yesterday about my fics! :) https://twitter.com/___Eastern/status/832009186531766272

_Carrie and Franny arrive home from school._

FRANNY - Snack time, mommy!

CARRIE - OK, sit down.

_They go through to the kitchen, Franny sits, Carrie opens the fridge._

_The basement door opens. Quinn steps up through the doorway. He sees Carrie in the kitchen, goes to talk to her, then notices Franny and stops in his tracks._

QUINN - Oh.

_Goes to step back down to the basement._

CARRIE - It’s OK.

_He’s not convinced._

CARRIE - It’s OK, Quinn, c’mon. Meet Franny.

_He takes a couple of nervous steps forward._

CARRIE - Franny, this is Peter.

FRANNY - Hello, Peter.

QUINN - H-h-h. Hi Franny.

FRANNY - Sit down, it’s snack time.

QUINN - OK.

_Still nervous. Sits._

_Carrie puts Franny’s snack down in front of her._

CARRIE - You want something?

QUINN - Coffee. Th.. th..  _(he twitches a little, can’t get it out. Cannot believe how nervous he suddenly is)_ Thanks.

_Franny stares at him._

_He looks down. Embarrassed by his stutter. By himself. No idea what to say._

FRANNY - Did you have a bad dream?

CARRIE - Franny, don’t be so nosy. That’s rude.

QUINN - That’s OK. Yeah, I.. I.. I did. I had a very bad dream.

FRANNY - When I have a bad dream my mommy hugs it better.

QUINN - Yeah…

_Carrie smiles to herself, raises an eyebrow, remembering that particular hug._

_But Quinn notices and looks away, blushing._

FRANNY - Did you see my picture? Mommy, where’s my picture of Peter?

_He looks up, amazed._

_Carrie takes it from the fridge._

CARRIE - Here.

_Gives it to Quinn._

CARRIE - It’s you and Franny when you met at Maggie’s. I told her how she sat on your lap and grinned from ear to ear.

_Quinn stares at it. Blinks. A lot. Says nothing._

CARRIE - Do you remember?

_He nods. Still blinking and saying nothing._

_Carrie realises he’s blinking back tears. She places a hand on his shoulder._

CARRIE - Do you like it?

_He nods._

QUINN – ( _Finally chokes out…)_ It’s very good. I… I.. I like it.

_Puts it down and looks at Franny._

QUINN - You’re good at drawing.

CARRIE - Shall we let Peter have it in his room downstairs?

FRANNY - Yes!

CARRIE - I’ll get you some tacks.

_Quinn puts the drawing on the table. Looks to Carrie as she gives him his coffee._

QUINN - I need to talk to you. It’s important.

_He gives a sideways look to Franny. One that means he doesn’t want to talk in front of her._

CARRIE - Franny, you wanna have your snack in front of the TV? Special treat?

FRANNY - Yes!!! You come too.

CARRIE - I’ll come in a minute - I need to talk to Peter. C’mon.

_Carrie carries her snack and drink through, followed by Franny. The TV goes on. Carrie comes back._

CARRIE - Look, Quinn about this morning… it’s OK…

QUINN - _(He almost snaps)_ It’s not that.

_So, she figures, it must be his health – concern clouds her face._

CARRIE - Are you OK?

QUINN - The apartment across the street. The guy’s watching you.

CARRIE - I’m sorry?

QUINN - I’ve seen him. He w.. w.. watches you from the window. I think he was in here.

CARRIE - Quinn…

QUINN - Listen to me…

CARRIE - Nobody was in here Quinn, except you.

QUINN - I heard him. I locked the door so he couldn’t come into the _(searches for the word)_ the… downstairs.

CARRIE - Look. Coming off your meds can make you paranoid. I know it sounded like/

QUINN - _(Interrupting loudly)_  It’s not that  _(realises he’s too loud, whispers)_ He was here.

CARRIE - You’re imagining it, Quinn. You know yourself you sometimes hear things. You told me that at the VA. Doesn’t that seem more likely than some guy from across the street snooping inside my house? Why would anyone be watching me? It doesn’t make any sense.

_He looks down. Trying to think of something to persuade her, trying to find words. Can’t. Shakes his head in frustration. Gets up, walks back to the basement._

CARRIE - Quinn, you don’t have to…

_He waves her away without looking round. Goes downstairs. Closes the door behind him._

_Franny comes in with an empty cup._

FRANNY - Where did Peter go?

CARRIE - He’s tired, honey. After his dream. He’s going to take a nap.

_Franny sees her drawing on the table._

FRANNY - He didn’t take my picture. Can I go give it to him?

CARRIE - Not now, sweetie. He needs to sleep. We’ll do it later. So what’s on TV? Come show me.

_They walk back towards the TV. As they pass level with the basement door, Carrie hears something. Franny runs ahead but Carrie pauses. The basement shower going on. She opens the door a little. Listens. Shouts down._

CARRIE - There’s some clean clothes in the bureau, Quinn. I bought them for you.

_No response except the sound of the shower._

_She closes the door and pauses for a moment, thinking. Follows Franny to the living room._


	18. Homeland snap fanfic No.18 – We need him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day after Carrie’s meeting with Quinn at the psychiatric hospital (as trailed in the 6x06 promo, 'You're with them')

_Carrie, on the phone to Conlin._

CARRIE - I need to talk to you.

CONLIN - Talk.

CARRIE - Not now. I need to meet. Where are you?

CONLIN - At the hospital.

CARRIE - With Quinn?

CONLIN - With my colleagues. They were just with him.

CARRIE - Anything?

CONLIN - He’s not saying much.

CARRIE - No. Well. Look, stay there. I’ll meet you there.

–-

_Carrie and Conlin in a room at the psych hospital._

CARRIE - You have to help me get Quinn out of here. He won’t talk in here, it’s making him worse. If I can just get him away, he’ll be better. I’ve seen it happen. He just closes down in hospitals.

CONLIN - You’re right about that.

CARRIE - I need him. _We_ need him.

CONLIN - Seriously? That guy?

CARRIE - I’m sorry?  _“That guy”_ knew something was happening before any of us. _“That guy”_ probably photographed the real bomber on his way into Medina Medley the night before the explosion. _“That guy”…_

CONLIN - OK, OK, I get it.

CARRIE - Do _not_ underestimate him.

CONLIN - That guy also took your daughter hostage.

CARRIE - That is NOT what happened.

_Conlin raises his eyebrows._

CARRIE - Believe me, he was doing the right thing. He thought he was.

CONLIN - You see what I’m saying though, Carrie. Guy’s half-paralysed and he still took out an ESU guy and a protestor. You told me yourself he’s paranoid and crippled with PTSD. You really want him out in the wild?

_She thinks._

CARRIE - I’ll take him somewhere safe. I have people who can look after him.

CONLIN - Seriously? Capable of containing a guy who got an entire street in lockdown with only one hand? They better be good.

CARRIE - They are. Gimme a minute.

_She steps into the empty corridor outside. Calls Max, then Astrid. Doesn’t take long. Of course they’ll drop whatever they’re doing for this._

–-

CARRIE - OK. I have a cabin upstate. If you can get him there, I’ll have people there. Can you do it?

CONLIN - Can I? Yes, I can. Will I…?

_Imploring – almost disbelieving - look from Carrie as he considers._

CONLIN - This is on you.

CARRIE - Absolutely.

CONLIN - It won’t be sanctioned. I can’t be seen to be springing him. No official release. We’ll have to make it look… like I wasn’t involved.

CARRIE - That’s fine. Thank you.

_They leave the room together, walk down the hospital corridor outside – they’re nearly at the end when a huddle of people walk round the corner right in front of them – it’s Quinn, with a guard on either side._

_He looks terrible. Shuffling. Drugged. In pain. No light in his eyes at all, not even paranoia-induced alertness. The guards are holding him, but not aggressively. Holding him up as much as anything._

CARRIE - Quinn…

_Her heart is breaking at the sight of him. Jesus, she has to get him out._

_The two parties halt face to face._

_Quinn looks, very slowly, up to Carrie. A momentary flicker in his eyes.Then gone._

_She looks to Conlin._

CARRIE - I need to speak to him.

GUARD - He’s in custody, Ma’am, you can’t speak to him.

_She looks again to Conlin. He shakes his head with resignation – this is against his better judgement, like everything else Carrie asks of him – pulls out his FBI ID and holds it up to the guards._

CONLIN - Two minutes, gentlemen. Walk with me.

_The guards let go of Quinn. Without them he can hardly stand – staggers and slumps onto the wall. Conlin and the guards walk back the way he and Carrie came from. Carrie waits until they’re gone._

CARRIE - Quinn…

_She leans against the wall facing him. He’s looking at the floor. She looks back over her shoulder to make sure there’s nobody near._

CARRIE - I need you to listen to me, Quinn. OK?

_He mumbles something but it’s so slurred she can’t make it out._

CARRIE - What?

QUINN - I’m not crazy.

CARRIE - I know. I know you’re not. You are NOT crazy. You were right. I know that now. I’m gonna help you. I promise. You have to listen.

We are gonna get you out of here. OK? That man? He’s the guy I told you about. With the FBI. He’s helping us. We’re gonna get you out of here, but you need to help us.

People will come for you - but we’re not allowed to take you out of here, so it won’t be pretty. But don’t fight them. When they come for you. OK? Are you listening? Quinn?

QUINN - Yeah.

CARRIE - If people come for you, they’re with us. OK? They’re with me. They’re going to bring you somewhere safe.

QUINN - How?

CARRIE - I… I don’t know. He’ll arrange it. But I have a place. It means you getting out of here.

_He looks at her, listening now._

CARRIE - Max will be there.

_He nods. That’s OK. He kinda likes Max these days. Trusts him._

CARRIE - And Astrid.

_Quinn is confused._

QUINN - A…? A…?

_He stops. Cannot get the word out._

CARRIE - She’s flying over. To help you. To help us. We’re not the bad guys, Quinn. We’re going to help you. And we need you.

_He holds his head up a fraction higher on hearing this. Just a fraction._

_Conlin steps back round._

CONLIN - Carrie?

CARRIE - OK. _(To Quinn)_ You remember, right?

_He nods._

_The guards come back round, lift him off the wall and Carrie and Conlin step aside as they walk on past. Carrie stands, watching their very slow progress, unbearably sad._

CARRIE _\- (To Conlin)_ Thank you.


	19. Homeland snap fanfic No.19 - Casus Belli - By Hop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The untold story - Homeland 6x05 through the bunny's eyes.  
> Just a bit of daftness to get us through the trauma of the rest of s6!

Hung out with the guys first thing as usual. Franny introduced us all to a new grown up. Called Peter, likes bunnies, knows Peter Rabbit. Said Hop was a  _great_  name. Seems nice.  


-  
Downstairs with Franny. Bit queasy -  she started on the fucking stair game again with me snuggled in her shoulder. I know she loves it, but please. Every friggin day. Peter was encouraging her, too. Don’t know if he’s a bit simple - she showed him three times, and he still didn’t get it.  
-  
Strange turn of events. The three of us are now hanging out on the sofa, hiding from a massive crowd outside the house. Not sure what’s going on, but Peter says we’re always safe with him. I trust him completely.  
-  
WTF?! Peter is a fucking lunatic! He just shot a gun out the front window! Latisha came round and me and Franny are hanging with her instead. Keen to back out of my new friendship with Peter but not sure how that would go down. I’m just keeping quiet.  
-  
Right. So now we’re shut in the basement bathroom. This is not how I saw today going.  
-  
Franny is an idiot. She just insisted we march out there and talk Peter into letting us leave the house. Needless to say, he just shouted at us. Guns everywhere. Another man pinned to the floor. Shit’s got real. This is not in my contract.  
-  
Mommy just appeared. Where the hell did she come from? Came in and gave us a hug. Said she was going to sort things out with Peter. I trust her completely.  
-  
WTF?! Mommy is a fucking liar! We’re curled up in the shower, the house is full of banging and shouting and… sweet mother of Jesus, do I smell the ESU? Don’t ask me how I know. You know I can’t talk about my past.  
-  
Mommy’s back. Got a quick glimpse of what was going on outside before she shut the bathroom door and it did NOT look like she’d sorted things out with Peter. He was getting dragged away by men in black. Dude caught my eye on the way out the door and I didn’t know where to look.  
-  
Oh, fucking brilliant. They’ve all gone. Left me flat out on the floor of the shower. Basement door’s bust open so I’m freezing. Least the shower’s dry. Got a really good view of it right now, and I must say it doesn’t look like it’s been used much recently.  
-  
Always the same. Mommy pretends to love me when Franny’s around, but as soon as her back is turned, it’s a different story. Came in, grabbed me by the neck and shoved me straight in a black bag. Not even a thank you for looking after Franny all day.  
Blue never gets this shit on his shifts.  
FML.


	20. Homeland snap fanfic No.20 - Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People sitting on the edge of beds have done so much of the emotional heavy lifting this season, I thought I’d write another (with a cameo from S06′s favourite bunny).
> 
> [Mild spoiler warning: There have been pics all over the place from bits of the S06 finale. I’ve no idea of the details of what happens in that ep, other than what’s in those pics, and this doesn’t really explore the details, but is based on one general assumption from those pics, so if you’ve somehow not seen them and you want to stay unwoke, don’t read any further!]

  
**Based after whatever-it-is-that-goes-down-in-the-finale that apparently leaves Quinn bloodied but mobile. Barely even a spoiler to say Quinn has been injured, it happens so often, but anyway.  
**

_Quinn is in a hospital bed. A gown. Machines. But this time no life support - he’s stable. Sitting with his eyes closed, but he opens them as he hears someone approach – it’s Carrie._

CARRIE - Hey. How you feeling?

_A brave half-smile. He feels terrible._

QUINN - You?

CARRIE - I’m fine. Glad you’re in one piece. Nearly.

QUINN - Yeah.

_She sits on the edge of his bed. Doesn’t know if this is OK or not, but… she has to - she slides her hand into his. He responds, curling his fingers into hers. They both look at their hands. Look up at each other at the same moment. Smile._

QUINN - I… I… I…

_He’s stuck for a moment. She waits patiently. For once, there’s no look of frustration from him as he struggles to speak._

…I’m sorry I was an asshole. At your house. And the h- hospital. 

CARRIE - You weren’t. I’ve been there, let’s face it - I know. It’s fine. I’d rather you were an asshole somewhere safe than out on the street. _  
_

_She reaches up to his fringe, runs her fingers through it, looks at him._

CARRIE - You are… the bravest fucking person I know. What you went through. What you’re still going through. I just… I wish I could make it all better.

QUINN - _(Really softly, only just audible)_ You do, Carrie.

_A long look. They kiss. It’s not like their previous kiss – he can barely move, certainly can’t reach up to clasp the back of her neck – it’s gentle. Tender. Quiet. They have both wanted this for so long. There’s no urgency now, no hurry. Just a final falling into each other, into a place of love and safety._

_They separate. Sit and look at each other again. Both happy. Nothing they need to say._

CARRIE - Oh. I have something for you.

_She reaches into her bag._

_Pulls out Hop.  
_

_Quinn grins._

QUINN - Hop. My man.

CARRIE - Franny insisted I bring him. You need him to take care of you, apparently.

_Quinn goes to take him, but it hurts, his hand falls back._

CARRIE - Here.

_She nestles Hop into the gap between his arm and his side. They both look at him and laugh._

CARRIE - I’ll tell her you’re safe now.

QUINN - She OK?

CARRIE - Yeah. She’s pretty tough for a five-year-old. She kept asking me if  _you_  were going to be OK.

QUINN - Tell her I’m fine. 

CARRIE - I will.

_She can’t stop herself smiling. A kiss from Quinn, followed by the sight of him with Hop tucked under his arm is about the happiest and sweetest sequence of events she can imagine._

CARRIE - I should let you rest. 

_He looks at her. Doesn’t want her to go, but he is_ so _tired._

CARRIE - I’ll come back later. I’ll try and resist Franny filling my bag with Blue, and Baa, and all the others…

_She stands. Kisses him softly on the forehead.  
_

CARRIE - I’ll see you later - get some sleep.

_She leaves. He watches her go. Closes his eyes and smiles._


	21. Homeland snap fanfic No.21 - You can’t go back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astrid & Quinn’s forest adventures continue - taking off at the end of the promo (as I’m getting impatient for 6x07 so I thought I’d write my own…)

ASTRID - Peter… I don’t understand…

QUINN - Exactly - I have to go and find out… _  
_

_A car approaches – Quinn tries to flag it down but it whizzes past. He turns and screams after it as it disappears._

QUINN - Stop! M-M-Motherfucker – STOP! Fuck.

_He takes a few steps after it, stops, slumps a little in despair.  
_

ASTRID - Peter. Listen to me. If you go back to New York, you will be arrested.

_She approaches him. Turns him round. Holds his arms and places her face squarely in front of his. He’s agitated._

ASTRID - I know you want to help, but you _will_ be locked up. Within hours. We need you, and you can’t help anyone strapped to a hospital bed.

Come with me, back to the cabin. Dar’s coming later. Then we can work out what to do without getting you sent straight back to prison.

_She drops her hands down to hold his hands._

You’re freezing. Come on, please get into the car with me.

_A last try – he points behind him, back towards New York…_

QUINN - B-B-But I’ve gotta g-ge-g mmm…

_He’s stuck_

They’re a-after mmm mmm m Pleee. Fuck…

_He gives up. So stressed he just cannot speak._

ASTRID - Come on. You’re cold, and tired, and probably still sedated, that’s why you can’t talk. Come back and rest for a few hours, have some food, then we’ll talk. Calmly, and slowly. You can tell me everything and I promise I’ll listen until I understand, and we’ll work out what to do. But New York is not an option right now. You can’t go back.

_He’s got nothing left. She guides him to the car._

—

_They pull up outside the cabin. He’s already asleep._

ASTRID - Peter?

_Opens an eye._

Let’s go in.

_She walks round to his side as he gets out. He stumbles. She takes his arm._

Maybe we overdid it on the sedative. I’m sorry.

QUINN - S’OK.

_They go in._

ASTRID - Before you lie down - I have medication for you. I think there’s something you need to take now.

_She goes to a bag on the counter, starts looking through._

Something for seizures? There’s others. But Carrie said that was the most important.

QUINN - Carrie? Sh… she knows I’m here?

ASTRID - It was Carrie who called Dar. After she saw you at the hospital. She gave me your meds before I came to get you _(still looking through bottles, reading labels)_ It’s an impressive collection you’ve got.

QUINN - I’m impr-pr-pressively f-fucked up.

ASTRID - Here. Primidone.

_She reads the bottle, takes two pills out, puts them on the counter, gets him a glass of water._

QUINN - I don’t… don’t trust Carrie.

ASTRID - You should. She’s got your back. If it weren’t for her you’d still be inside. Probably indefinitely. They don’t put revolving doors on the locked ward at Bellevue.

_He stares down at the pills. Doesn’t know what to think. Too tired to think. Cannot face having a seizure out here, with Astrid looking on. Takes them. Knocks back the glass of water. Stretches a little. His arm, shoulder, neck, head are all hurting._

You want painkillers?

_Shakes his head._

Well they’re here if you need them.

Lie down. I’ll wake you up when Dar gets here.

_He walks towards the bedroom._

And don’t run off. I’m watching the door this time.


	22. Homeland snap fanfic No.22 - You lied to me. About Berlin.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OK, people. We’re all traumatised by 6x07. Time for some tenderness to get us through the bleak mid-season.
> 
> I’m sure the actual script will get through this much more deftly, in like, two perfectly-honed lines of dialogue or something (and definitely without the last line), but I wanted to spend a little time seeing these two work this through together. And to give us all some good feels to cling to at this difficult time.
> 
> This supposes Quinn has persuaded Astrid that Dar is a piece of shit and she’s helped him get back to New York. Might write that scene another time…

  
_Carrie enters her house. Goes to switch off the security system. Fuck - it’s already off - a wire hanging from the bottom. Instant high alert, she pulls her gun._

_Walks silently down the hall. To the door. Sees through the crack that someone’s in there, on the sofa. She pauses, steadies her breath. Whips round, ready to shoot._

QUINN - Carrie.

CARRIE - Holy fuck.

QUINN - You got a security system.

CARRIE - Jesus you scared the crap out of me.

QUINN - Max put it in?

CARRIE - Christ, Quinn.    What, the security system? Yes.

QUINN - Crappy job. 

CARRIE - Clearly.    Are you OK? Where have you been? I’ve been trying to see you at Bellevue, they said you’d gone. What happened? They let you out?

_Silence. He’s looking at the floor. He has a difficult conversation to have, doesn’t know how to start it._

CARRIE - Quinn? Where have you been?

QUINN - Carrie…

CARRIE - What is it?

QUINN - Y-You lied to me.

CARRIE - What? 

QUINN - You lied to me.

CARRIE - About what?

QUINN - You know.

CARRIE - I don’t understand, Quinn, what is it ? About the FBI? I swear, it was just one guy…

QUINN – About Berlin. 

_A moment. She deflates._

CARRIE - Berlin?

QUINN - Yes.

_She sinks into a chair opposite him._

CARRIE - OK…

QUINN - You said I died in the …. _(searches for the word)_ ambulance.

CARRIE - You did. I was there. You flat/

QUINN - Flatlined. Three minutes. I know. W-what else?

CARRIE - What do you mean?

QUINN - I had a mm.. a mmmassive s-s-stroke. Why?

_Suddenly Carrie looks tearful._

QUINN - Ruined my b-body, my brain. Seizures. My… s… sss…. speee… _(Fucking ironic. He can’t say speech. Points at himself trying to speak)_ This. Everything.

CARRIE - Quinn…. _(But she doesn’t know what to say)_. 

QUINN - You woke me up. 

_A long silence._

CARRIE - Do you remember?

_Shakes his head._

CARRIE - Who told you? 

QUINN - Dar.

CARRIE - That figures.

QUINN - Did you know?

CARRIE - What?

QUINN - This would happen _(lifts his left hand with his right, drops it limp into his lap)._

CARRIE – _(A pause)._ Not exactly. They said it was a possibility. We had to make a call. Me and Saul.

I _know_ we shouldn’t have done it. I think that every fucking day that I see you in pain and struggling, it was the wrong decision. I would give _anything_ …

QUINN - It was the right decision.

CARRIE - I’m sorry?

QUINN - I’d have d-done it to you. 

You know that.

_A pause as she takes this in. She doesn’t know that. She’s pretty sure he wouldn’t have, would have done anything in his power to prevent it.  
_

CARRIE - But… 

QUINN - You made the r-right decision. It’s f-fine.

But I wanna know…

_His eyes go down. This is the difficult bit._

CARRIE - What? What is it?

_She moves across to sit next to him, still teary but wanting to know what he’s asking.  
_

_He can’t look at her._

QUINN - Looking… _(He hates to say it, to think about it, to admit he needed it)_ Looking after me. The air am-ambulance from Berlin. Pushing me round in that f-f-fucking wheelchair. Fucking f-f-eeding me like a b-baby. Coming to physio, s-s-peech therapy, every damn thing.

Bringing me here.

CARRIE - What? 

QUINN - W-w-w….was it guilt?

_It’s another “Why?” moment. She’s so floored._

CARRIE - Guilt?

Jesus.

Quinn, no.

You…

You think that’s why I took care of you? 

_He’s looking down. Shrugs._

CARRIE - _(Whispers)_ No. 

No.

_(Harder)_ Did Dar tell you that as well? Because Dar is a fucked up, vindictive/

QUINN - Yeah. He is. But is he right?

_She takes his hand._

CARRIE - Do you really not know why I took care of you?

_Her other hand to his cheek._

Quinn - look at me. 

_Third time she’s tried recently to get him to look at her with a hand to his face - this time there’s no bite, no argument - he looks at her._

Because I wanted to. I _really_ wanted to. Because you would have done it for me. You _did_ do it for me. Because I… care. _So_ much.

_He leans his face into her hand a little. Looks down. Closes his eyes. She sees tears rolling down his cheeks._

_She pulls him towards her chest and holds him. He lets her, leans in. She buries her face in his hair, also crying. Whispers, softly, just enough for him to hear._

Because I fucking love you, dammit.


	23. Homeland snap fanfic No.23 - Dar gets what he deserves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wish fulfillment. Quinn and Dar’s past explored more, and Dar gets his just desserts. Also making some sense of Dar’s claim that he didn’t force himself on Quinn, when obviously something pretty awful went down. And of Quinn’s pathological aversion to needing anyone else. No idea what has happened just before this, or how the Big Four all ended up in a Reservoir Dogs-style showdown like this, but who cares…

  
_A bare room. Dar is tied to a chair. Bruises to his face. Quinn, shaking with rage, is pointing a gun at him. Carrie and Saul have just run into the room, stop suddenly when they see what’s happening._

QUINN - You sick motherfucker. I should’ve done this years ago.

CARRIE - Quinn…

QUINN - Shuddup.

DAR - Peter, this is quite unnecessary. You’re upset, I can see that.

QUINN - FUCKING right I’m upset.

_Saul looks at Carrie - should they try and intervene? Neither of them fancies their chances against Quinn, even in this state - especially in this state. And really, they’re not inclined to put themselves on the line for Dar right now after all he’s done to them._

QUINN - _(Shouting, near tears)_ You took me from a fucking foster home. I had no one.

DAR - That’s right. You had no one. You needed me. I took you on, Peter, when no one else would. What would your life have been like if it wasn’t for me? Turning tricks for small change? How much longer could you have done that for?

_Carrie gapes. She didn’t know that._

DAR - Then what? You would have been nothing without me.

QUINN - I’m nothing now, you b-bastard. Look at me. I should’ve left years ago but you kept dragging me back. Now I can’t f-fucking walk or t-t-talk. You ruined me. And you still won’t let me go.

DAR - You’re being dramatic.

QUINN - I should have br-broken your neck the first time you made me suck you off in that stinking basement in Baltimore.

_Carrie and Saul both gape this time._

DAR - Made you, Peter? That’s not how I remember it. You did it quite willingly as I recall. And very well. And you came back for more.

QUINN - FUCK you. What ch-choice did I have? I had NOTHING, and you…. _(spits it out)_ bought me.

CARRIE - C’mon, Quinn, this is not…

QUINN - Back off, Carrie. _(He’s still talking at Dar, not Carrie)_ You tell me this man doesn’t deserve for me to shoot him in the face right now. You tell me that. 

He gave me money when I was so hungry I was passing out in the street. Then he gave me drugs. He made me need him. He fucking _MADE_ me need him…

_He shoots. Hits his target - of course. Blood everywhere. Carrie gasps.  
_

_Quinn slumps to the floor. Drops the gun. He’s shaking, crying, convulsing. Carrie drops straight down next to him. Quickly slides the gun away to Saul. Holds Quinn._

CARRIE - It’s OK. It’s OK, Quinn. Shhh. It’s OK.

_She looks to Saul. They both know it’s a long way from OK._


	24. Homeland snap fanfic No.24 - When I saw you in May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So what happened when Astrid visited the hospital in May? She seemed crestfallen when she discovered Quinn had forgotten, like there was something particular she hoped he’d have remembered. And there’s such a big gap between Quinn in 5.12 and 6.01, my mind has been aching to explore it.
> 
> (Also: Just realised it’s yet another ‘edge-of-the-bed’ scene. Never mind season sex, it’s season sheets).

  
_Quinn lies in a hospital bed. Slightly slumped to the left, staring vacantly towards the window on his left, away from the door. A towel lies across his chest and left shoulder. A drip stand on his right side feeds into a tube that travels down towards his stomach, white liquid running through it._

_Astrid appears in the doorway. Looks at him. Stands there a moment, collecting herself._

_She knocks on the open door._

ASTRID - Hello, Peter.

_His head moves a little, but he doesn’t look round._

_Astrid walks in._

ASTRID - Peter?

_His head turns slowly towards the sound, but he can’t quite focus._

_She walks round the end of the bed, to his side, but his eyes don’t follow._

ASTRID - Hi.  It’s me. Astrid. 

_She places a hand on his left hand._

_His head tracks slowly back round to where she now stands, on his left side. He manages to focus on her. A pause.  
_

QUINN - Aaaaa….

_Drool spills from the left side of his mouth onto the towel._

_She’s momentarily mortified for him but gathers herself._

ASTRID - Here.

_Picks up the corner of the towel, wipes his mouth, puts it back._

_She pulls a chair close to the bed, sits._

ASTRID - How are you?

_He looks at her. Trying hard to concentrate_.

ASTRID - It’s good to see you awake. You had us worried there for a while. 

_She tries to smile._

QUINN - Uhhhhhh….

ASTRID - It’s OK.

_A small shake of his head. He wants to try._

QUINN - Uhhh. I… cannn’t  _(Nods at his left hand)_  mmmove. 

_She suddenly can’t help herself. A tear spills onto her cheek. Holds his hand again, even though she know he can’t hold hers back._

ASTRID - I know. I know.

_Pause. What can she say to make this better? Nothing. She tries anyway._

ASTRID - You’re having physio though, right? You’ll get better. The doctor said a lot can change.

QUINN - I cannnn’t…. 

_His right hand, vague and clumsy, moves to indicate the tube going into his stomach…_

….this. Cannnn’t eat.

Cannnn’t. Anny. Annnnythnnnng.

ASTRID - It’s early days, Peter. You had a massive stroke. It takes time to heal. 

QUINN - Mmmmm… might not. Cannn’t stay….. 

_Thinks. With his right hand, indicates his body…_

Can’t stayyyyy like this. Not walk. Cannn’t.

_He groans, his head tips back, his neck twists, he looks up to the corner of the room, his eyes glaze, he stares into space. He’s away, his attention spent.  
_

ASTRID - Peter?

_He moans a little. More drool._

_She wipes his chin._

ASTRID - Peter.

_She strokes his cheek gently. Nothing. She waits. A moan. His head still twisted back, he tries hard to look back at Astrid._

ASTRID - Hi.

QUINN - Aaaaa…..

ASTRID - I know it’s hard. But be patient, OK? A lot of people care about you.  

_He manages to turn his head back a little towards her._

QUINN - Whhhhoo? 

ASTRID - Who? Well, me for a start.

_His eyebrows raise._

ASTRID - Don’t look surprised.

You know that. 

QUINN - Mmmmmm.     I’mmm… no use.

ASTRID - Don’t say that. 

QUINN - Trrrrrue.

ASTRID - It’s not. You’re going to get better. It won’t always be like this.

_He’s zoned out again. Head and neck twist up, eyes staring, unfocussed._ _Mouth open._

_She’s not sure he can hear her now, he seems a world away. This is tearing her apart._

ASTRID - Peter. Oh God. I’m sorry. You’re right, this is fucking awful. I wish I could help you. I would. If I knew what to do. I would do anything to help you right now, I really would.  

_With a huge effort, he looks at her. He heard. She strokes his face._  

ASTRID - You’re still fucking beautiful, you know that?  

_A long blink from him. He doesn’t know what to do with that._

_She leans forward, kisses him on the forehead._

QUINN - Mmmmm…. Aaaaaa….

_He stops._

ASTRID - What is it?

QUINN - Aaaaa… h-hollll…me.

ASTRID - Hold you? 

_He looks right at her._

You mean? 

_She points at the bed. He nods._

_She considers. Walks to the other side of the bed, takes off her coat. Moves the drip stand towards the bottom of the bed. Lets down the rail at the side of the bed. Slides her shoes off._

_Sits on edge of the bed, lifts her legs up on it so she’s sitting alongside him. Not much space but she fits. She wraps her arms around him. Manages to lift him a little towards her as she scoots herself into him. He’s enveloped in her arms, learning back into her. She rests her head on his. Strokes his right hand with hers._  

ASTRID - It’s OK. It’s gonna be OK, Peter. 

_He leans his head back into hers. She rocks him a little._  

ASTRID - It’s OK. 

QUINN - Mmmmm.

_Closes his eyes. Breathes deeply. They sit._


	25. Homeland snap fanfic No.25 - Where’s Franny?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This. Will. Never. Happen. Totally in the realms of “what this pair should say if they were waaay more emotionally literate”. But still. It would be nice if they could get all this out the way…  
> Another one that supposes Quinn has made his way back to NY and to Carrie’s house.

_Carrie and Quinn at the kitchen table. They’ve been talking. Quinn sees Hop on the table. Picks him up and squeezes him._

QUINN - W-where’s Franny?

CARRIE – She’s _(bites back tears)_ She’s in foster care.

QUINN - What?

_She nods._

QUINN - Are you fucking kidding me?

CARRIE - They… said I’m an unfit mother.

QUINN - Because of me?

CARRIE - No, Quinn.

QUINN - FUCKING….f-foster care?

_He suddenly stands in a rage, his chair falls over and he grabs it and throws it violently across the room. Carrie leaps up.  
_

CARRIE - Quinn!

QUINN - She c-c-c-can’t stay in foster care. That’s the fucking end.

CARRIE - I know. I’ve been _trying_. There’s no way round it. I have to go through psych evaluation, counselling. They think my bipolar…

QUINN – _(Almost hysterical)_ She can N-N-N-NOT stay in f-f-foster care. No fuchhhing way.

CARRIE – _(A little taken aback by the force of his rage)_ It’s OK Quinn – calm down… calm down.

_He tries to contain himself but it’s a struggle._

QUINN - N-n-n-nnnn…

_A penny drops for Carrie._

CARRIE - Shit. You were in foster care, weren’t you?

_He stops up short._

QUINN - H-h-how do you kn-know that?

CARRIE - Dar told me. In the hospital. In Berlin.

QUINN - Wh-wh-wh—- ( _he looks terrified_ ) — whaaat did he sssay?

CARRIE - That he recruited you from a foster home. In Baltimore.

QUINN - N.N.N… _(He looks away)_. Not exactly.

CARRIE - What is it?

_He can’t meet her eye._

QUINN - Dar is a f-fucking asshole. Don’t trust him. On anything.

CARRIE – Well, that’s definitely true. But I thought he was your… I don’t know… I mean, you worked for him, I thought he was your guy?

_He’s trying to speak but just can’t work out what to say – not just the words that won’t form properly, but the thoughts._

_He shakes his head._

QUINN - No. No. He fucking… No.

_Carrie knows something’s going on here but she can’t quite work out what. Rests a hand gently on his arm._

CARRIE - OK. It’s OK Quinn, you don’t have to… C’mon. Sit down. We can talk about something else.

_She picks up the chair he threw, puts it by him. They sit._

_Silence. Great idea to talk about something else, but what? Quinn is still consumed with thought, staring at the table, rocking back and forth a little, obviously in distress. It suddenly blurts out._

QUINN - D-Dar did recruit me. But he f-f- _fucked_ me first.

_Carrie’s eyes widen. She takes this in a minute. Under her breath…_

CARRIE - Shit.

_Pause…_

CARRIE - I… Jesus…

QUINN – I was 16. Fucking monster.     Franny…

CARRIE - Franny’s with a family. She’s safe. I promise you. I want her back, but she’s safe.

QUINN - I could go get her.

CARRIE - Quinn – no. That would NOT help, believe me. Listen - promise me you will NOT go find her. I want her back, desperately. But right now, she’s safe. What happened to you will _not_ happen to her… Please promise me you will not go after her. It will make things worse. Much worse.

_Finger to his chin, she lifts his face._

CARRIE - Look at me.

_He does._

CARRIE - Promise me _.  
_

_He stares at her a moment. Thinks. Nods._

_A pause._

CARRIE - Dar Adal. Motherfucker.

QUINN – _(Suddenly ashamed)._ Shouldn’t have told you. Shouldn’t… I’m just a fucking mess… emb-b-barrassment. I can’t fffffucking…

_He’s so upset. a string of drool falls from his mouth as he tries to talk._

QUINN - Fucking, I fucking… _(wipes the drool from his face with his sleeve… shows it to Carrie to demonstrate…)_ fucking mess. I’m leaving.

_He gets up, goes to walk out but she leaps up and blocks his path, a hand on each of his arms._

QUINN - Stop. Get off me.

_She lifts her hands away but stands her ground._

CARRIE - We’ve done this before, Quinn. Just stop this time. Please. _Please_. Listen to me. Just stop.

_He stops. He’s shaking._

CARRIE - You think I don’t feel… shame sometimes, when I think how you’ve seen _me_? Jesus, after ECT, I was a fucking drooling mess. I couldn’t speak. You came to see me, out of my _mind_ , and you just looked… sad. You didn’t pity me at all. You just saw me. God knows you’ve seen the absolute _worst_ of me.

QUINN - You were s-s-sick.

CARRIE - Exactly. And so were you. I was with you when you woke up. All those weeks after that, when you had to be washed by nurses, and turned in your bed, and fed through a fucking tube. I know. It’s awful to think about, but I saw it, and I _stayed_ , and I’m still here. Same way you saw me off-the-scale crazy, and you stayed.

_He shakes his head slowly, trying not to cry._

CARRIE - After you saw me in the hospital, you told me it didn’t matter. And I believed you. And we moved on. Now you’ve got to believe _me_.

I don’t care about what Dar did to you. I don’t care… that you can’t use your hand, or that you stutter, or you have a hard time walking. I _don’t care_. I’m still here. And so are you.

Please stop running away. Please.

_She takes a small step towards him. He looks at her. She places a hand at his waist.  
_

_Tentatively, he places his hand on her shoulder. Very slowly, they move into one another, she buries her face in his shoulder and slides her hand into the small of his back, as he closes his eyes and rests his head on hers. They rest in each other._


	26. Homeland snap fanfic No.26 - 6.08 continued…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thought I’d write something to link up the 6.08 & 6.09 scenes at the cabin, and it feels like it pretty much turned into Peter Quinn pain porn. But that’s basically Homeland’s entire MO for this season and last, so what the hell, not my fault.  
> Since there’s nobody for him to speak to, didn’t seem much point in doing my usual script format, so it’s a rare venture into prose for me…

_**6.08 continues...** _

He drags himself to the edge of the lake. Grips the rocks. Lungs on fire, whole body burning and shaking with terror and pain and rage, adrenaline flooding every tissue. Trying not to remember the last time he was this desperate for air.

His brain is racing wild, hardly knows what’s happening, but he knows Astrid is dead. Holds onto that one thought with a laser focus, the one sure thing he _has_ to hold on to, the one thing that’s so certain his brain can only cling to it, while chaos whirls around him. Astrid is dead. Pain. Cold. Fear. Dark. Astrid is dead. Astrid is dead.

Holds on to the rocks for… he doesn’t know how long. Trying to surface from the deafening roar inside him, barely aware of his surroundings. Eventually the pain from his shoulder, and from his extremities, gnaws its way into his consciousness – his right hand clutching the rocks, frozen by the wind; his left hand, too heavy to lift, submerged in the water, like a block of solid ice. Realises he’s shaking with the cold. Has to get out. Looks around. Stillness. Listens. Silence. How the fuck does he get out of here?

Looks along the shoreline - back the way he came, the rocks give way to a small, sandy, shelving bay. He inches his way back along the rocks, struggling on the uneven lake bottom. At the edge of the sand, looks around again. No one. Walks up the beach, brain hyper-alert, pinging in all directions at once, over-stimulated, overwhelmed. He knows it’s night but he can see bright lights exploding off every tree, every shape. Astrid’s dead. Astrid’s dead.

Despite that thought hammering repeatedly in his brain as he approaches the car, for a moment he suddenly, totally, believes that she’s sitting inside it, waiting for him. He’s dreamed it all, it’s afternoon, they’re going to drive into town for some decent coffee. He smiles to himself, embarrassed at his idiocy, raises a hand to wave, goes to say something to her, apologise for keeping her waiting – but then looks down and there she is, on the ground, stretched out in front of him – he’s been looking at the car so keenly that he’s almost tripped over her corpse. Her face is right at his feet. Eyes open. So fucking still. Blooms of blood across her white sweater. Arms twisted up unnaturally around her head. He chokes. He’s seen so many dead bodies before but he’s only felt like this once before. Caracas. But this is worse. Astrid’s dead. Something else is knocking at the back of his mind. He can’t let it in. Not yet.

“Astrid?” he whispers - a small, frightened boy’s voice. The Peter who begged her to stay and look after him. He stumbles to the floor. Gently touches her face. “Astrid?” Takes her hand.

My fault. That’s what’s knocking at the door. My fault. My fault. My fault. The bullets. The fucking bullets. He feels them in his hand again, smooth and familiar, feels himself flinging them away. My fault. Then he sees her again, flashing before his eyes – alone, leaning on the hood of the car, pausing for a split second, almost smiling to herself, knowing she had this guy in her sights and she wouldn’t miss. She never did. Knowing she’d saved them both. Then the click. The empty cartridge. Him, stuck out of reach, struggling against his twisted body, leaning on the building, unable to reach her, unable to stop it. Astrid’s dead. My fault. Astrid’s dead. My fault.

A convulsive sob wrings through him. But only one. He’s not prepared to turn inwards, pity himself - he’s thinking now only of Astrid – too late now, but he has to make it up to her. Can’t leave her here in the mud and the cold. She was so worried about _him_ getting cold when he went out without a coat. But how does he move her in his woeful state? He gets her into a sitting position in front of him, his right arm around her chest. Holds her for a moment, and in that moment another thought flashes through him - “Friend? You idiot, don’t you know _anything_?” He suddenly realises – only now, goddamn it, damn his glacial brain – that she was declaring her love for him. And instantly remembers his cruelty earlier in the day – “We fucked each other because we were lonely”. The pain is too much – he grips her tighter, just for a moment, and then grits his teeth against the fresh sob that’s starting to rise within him. Pushes it down.

Staggers to his feet, and, walking backwards, drags her towards the house. It’s so hard. He can hardly stand, she weighs so much, her limbs fall in all directions, he falls over again and again, her body on top of him. Part way there, he loses reality completely, finds himself standing in the woods, looking around, no idea where he is or what’s happening to him. Feels the heaviness on his arm, looks down and realises anew. Astrid’s dead. My fault.

At last, he gets her in the door, drags her onto the sofa. She looks so fucking dead. Limbs stretched, odd angles, eyes open. He reaches into each of her pockets in turn - old habits die hard - finds only her phone, slides it out and puts it down nearby.

So gently, so carefully, so tenderly, he moves her, little by little. Leans her against a cushion. Closes her eyes, one then the other. Places her legs on the sofa slightly bent, her arms curled in her lap. He’s not sure if he’s whispering the words “I’m sorry” aloud, or if they’re just in his head, again and again, each time he touches her. Looks around. Sees the blanket she had laid over him the night before as they curled up in front of the fire - takes it up and returns the favor, drapes it over her and tucks her in, safe and warm. Astrid’s dead. Astrid’s dead. Astrid’s dead.

He sits on the floor close to her. Starts to peel off his wet coat, hoodie, shirt. So difficult – he’s so fucking tired, everything hurts, he has to fight to stop his brain switching off completely. Finally is stripped down and able to examine his shoulder wound. Motherfucker. He could do without this. Glances upstairs. He’ll have to go clean this up, find a dressing, find some dry clothes for himself. It all feels so impossible. In a minute.

He picks up Astrid’s phone. Stares at it. Holds it. It’s still warm from her body.

The screensaver is a shot from across the lake, looking back to the cabin in the distance. Taken during her run this afternoon. He looks at the cabin in the picture. He’s in there. Searching Astrid’s bag. Suspecting her. About to walk out the door and take the bullets out of her gun.

Astrid’s dead. My fault.

He puts down the phone and stands. Breathes. Breathes. Breathes. Calm. Focused. He finally, actually, hears silence, the roar inside him now stilled.

He climbs the stairs, to prepare for what comes next.


	27. Homeland snap fanfic No.27 - The Letter Revisited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m thinking tailend Ep12. Ever the optimist.  
> I’ve written this before, differently. In fact it was Snap fanfic No.1. There’s been enough water under the bridge by now for it to feel worth having another go with a little more context.

_Carrie and Quinn in the brownstone. Whatever shit has gone down, it’s gone down - the calm after the storm. He’s sitting at the kitchen table, she places a coffee in front of him, has one for herself but is moving about, tidying up. Quinn sips his coffee. Stares at it. He’s thinking._

CARRIE - You OK?

QUINN - Yeah.

_She picks up Hop from the kitchen counter where he’s lying. Sticks him on the table in front of Quinn._

CARRIE - Here. Look after your friend.

_Quinn picks Hop up. Absent-mindedly squeezes him right in the face with his thumb. Still thinking._

_Carrie, still tidying, looks at Quinn curiously._

CARRIE - What’s going on?

_He looks up at her. Back down._

QUINN - D-D-Do…

_She puts down what she’s doing to give him her attention._

QUINN - Do you ever th-think about…. _(he tails off)_

CARRIE - What _?  
_

_He stares at Hop. Carrie, infuriated, takes Hop from him to bring him to the point._

CARRIE - Jesus, what is it?

QUINN - B-Before I went to Syria.

_Carrie raises her eyebrows, reels a little. She knows exactly what he means. A long silence while they both feel their way into this conversation._

CARRIE - Yeah.

_She sits down next to him._

Yeah, I do. Of course I do.

_It’s her turn to stare at Hop as she thinks._

I fucking kicked myself for months – years, actually, that I didn’t call you sooner.

QUINN - You said that. In B-Berlin.

CARRIE – I never know how much you remember.

QUINN - I remember that.

_A pause._

CARRIE - You know….

_She pauses again. Does she want to say this?_

In Berlin, Dar gave me…

_Quinn looks angry, just at the mention of the name…_

It’s OK. It’s… nothing bad. I promise you.

Wait a minute.

_She goes to the door, about to head upstairs. Stops, looks at him._

Come with me.

_He’s confused, but gets up and follows her. She goes upstairs, into her bedroom. He stops at the door, watching her. She looks back at him._

It’s OK, come in. Sit down.

_She sits on the edge of the bed, indicates for him to sit next to her. He does, not sure what’s going on. She opens the top drawer of the cabinet next to her bed. Takes a deep breath - takes out Quinn’s letter, still in its envelope._

He gave me this. When we thought you weren’t gonna make it.

_Quinn knows exactly what it is. Can’t find any words, his mouth is moving but he doesn’t know what to say. He takes it. Turns it over – it’s been opened. Can’t look at her._

QUINN – _(Almost a whisper)_ Y-Y-Y… you read it?

CARRIE - Yeah.

_A pause._

It was beautiful. Really beautiful.

Do you still feel that way?

QUINN - I… I…

CARRIE - Because I would love it if you did.

_He looks up at her, stunned._

QUINN - But I… I… I’m…. ( _he indicates his body)_. I’m not the s-s-same. You don’t want to…

CARRIE - You are. In every way that matters, you are. And I do want to. Fuck, I really… I know these past few months haven’t been easy… for any of us. But even after all that, I still feel the same. I just fucking wish. _(Suddenly angry at herself) Really_ wish I’d called you.

_(She rests her hand on his left hand)_ If we’d got out then, this wouldn’t have happened to you.

QUINN - _(Smiles a little)_ W-We’re not great at that.

CARRIE - Getting out? No. That’s really fucking true.

So _do_ you still feel that way?

_A pause, he’s looking at her – feels safer now. Nods._

QUINN - Yeah. Yeah, I do.

_She grins. Cannot help herself. Her face splits in two with joy._

CARRIE - Well thank fuck for that. I was kind of out on a limb for a minute there.

_He smiles too. They are so busy grinning at each other they almost don’t know what to do next. An awkward laugh and they look away from each other. Then back, right into each other’s eyes, this time deadly serious. She’s still holding his left hand. He raises his right hand to her neck. They kiss…_


	28. Homeland snap fanfic No.28 – I thought my nursing days were behind me…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So it looks like at this stage in S06, EVERYTHING I WRITE is just going to turn into Carrie & Quinn making out, until it ACTUALLY HAPPENS, goddamn it. I don’t mean it to. Possibly everything I write for the next three weeks will end with the words “They kiss.”. I should write a scene that starts with them cleaning the toilet together and see if they end up kissing (they will).  
> Dedicated to @sensemisapplied of WTH because I know how much hates anything to do with wounds, injuries, bodily fluids, etc. so I knew she'd luuurve this :)

_New York? The Flag House? Wherever. Quinn has just told Carrie (almost) everything. The midnight abduction. Astrid’s murder. The guy with the hat - Dar’s guy. But not the rest. Not Dar’s darkest words._  


CARRIE - Jesus. Astrid?

_She looks at the floor, trying to take it all in._

And how are _you_?

_He breathes out heavily, looks into the corner, evading her gaze._

Are you OK? Do you have your meds? I can get/

QUINN - I have meds. 

_Reluctantly, pulls his sweater aside, shows her the gunshot wound.  
_

CARRIE - Fuck. Is that a bullet wound? Motherfucker. Can I see? 

_He pulls away._

Quinn. Just let me see.

_He lets her approach and gently peel back the dressing._

Shit. We need to clean this. Were you in the lake with this?

QUINN - It’s fine. I cleaned it.

CARRIE - You don’t get any say in this. I am NOT seeing you go down with septicaemia. Again. Sit down.

QUINN - Carrie.

CARRIE - SIT DOWN.

_Eyebrows raised from the blast, he does.  
_

_She goes off to the bathroom, comes back with some basic medical kit she’s cobbled together from what was in the cupboards._

Can you get your sweater off?  

_Slowly, laboriously, he gets his coat off. She resists - just - the temptation to help him.  
_

_He pulls his sweater and shirt up over his head with his right hand, but then he’s stuck. It hurts too much, it’s too awkward, to tiring, his paralysed arm just too hard to manoeuvre with the addition of a bullet wound to the “safe place”._

CARRIE - Please let me.

_For a split second he goes to resist - but realises it’s pointless. Lets her gradually, carefully, peel the sweater down over the top of his shoulder. As she does…_

CARRIE - We haven’t done _this_ for a while. I thought my nursing days were behind me.

QUINN - Thank fuck.

CARRIE - I’m sorry?! I got pretty good at this I’ll have you know. You don’t remember.

QUINN - I do.

_He looks right at her, deadly serious, and she stops. They’re inches from each other. Her hands are on his skin. They breathe. How have they suddenly gone from her nursing him to something very different? But Quinn won’t overstep the line. He did that once before, after the dream, and he knows how that goes. He breathes heavily and bites the inside of his mouth._

_Carrie feels her whole world tilt a little at the discovery that he remembers those early days in the hospital. When he was so vulnerable, so frightened, so harmed and helpless, when neither of them knew if he’d ever talk, walk, get back even a part of the man he had been. Or whether this would be life for him now._

_She suddenly feels closer to him than she has at any time since those days of intimacy and caring, when he would watch her with his huge blue eyes, lack of  speech placing him a world away, but by touch so close, as she moved his limbs through the well-worn routines of dressing, of physio, of moving and stretching and cushioning him to alleviate the pain. Then he broke away, like an angry adolescent, refused her attempts to help, leaving her watching, impotent, as he struggled to manage his unruly body for himself. And now here he is, back in her hands. Like a newly-cast version of the man she knows so well. Part-mended. Cracked open. Vulnerable. Heart showing._

_She gulps and breaks his gaze, looks at her hands as she runs them tenderly over his shoulder, down his arm, peels his sleeve off, ends with his left hand held in both of hers. Stops. They both look at his hand, cradled in hers.  
_

_A pause that seems to last forever.  
_

_He realises she’s crying._

QUINN - _(Softly)_ You OK?

CARRIE - I’m sorry.

_She wipes a tear away, embarrassed. Still looking down at his left hand, cradled in her right._

_(Whispers)_ I just hate that this happened to you. I fucking hate seeing you suffer. You’ve really suffered.

_He smiles._

QUINN - I’m pretty brave.  

_She laughs._

CARRIE - You really are.

_He raises his right hand to her face, cradles it, his thumb wipes away a tear._

_But as he does it, his stomach flips. He used to feel so sure in these moments. Knew that movements like this would make women crumble at his charm. Now his certainties are all gone. Is this about to end in anger again, in humiliation?_

_She feels his hand falter. Sees the worry cross his face.  
_

CARRIE - It’s OK. It’s OK.  

_She places her hand over his. Smiles._

_He smiles a little back at her. That lopsided smile she occasionally got from him in the hospital on the rare occasions things went right._

I should dress your wound.

_She makes no movement to do so, doesn’t even glance away from his gaze._

_They breathe.  
_

_She realises. He won’t move on her. After the dream. She has to do this.  
_

_She releases his left hand, raises both her hands to the back of his neck. Grasps him and pulls him to her. Stops for a moment right in front of him so that their breaths combine. They kiss._


	29. Homeland snap fanfic No.29 – Johnny & Nikki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I loved ‘Johnny’ and Nikki in the diner, despite how fucking sad it was to see Quinn deal with her shock at his changed state. But it was such a beautiful interaction, I wanted to stretch it out a little longer.

NIKKI - Johnny, you OK?

_He stares at the counter. Tries to hold it together._

QUINN - I’m fine.

_She stares at him – it’s so clearly not true._

NIKKI - You don’t look great.

_Looks at her, smiles faintly. He’s suddenly feeling terrible. His shoulder’s still bleeding, that holster’s digging into the wound. Nikki just hugged him and everything hurt… did he take his meds this morning? He thinks so but sometimes he can’t quite remember. There’s a **lot** of white light round everything right now. He should have slept last night, lack of sleep’s not good. Please don’t let him have a seizure here. That cannot happen. Please. The world swims. He holds the counter. Please, no. Looks round at the tables behind him…_

QUINN - C-can I s-sit?

NIKKI - Course – here _(she indicates a seat, shouts to her colleague)_ Rita, I’m taking my break.

_He stumbles into the booth, she slides in opposite him._

_He rubs his face, tries to pull himself together._

NIKKI - Johnny - what happened to you? You’re… _(she doesn’t want to say it, doesn’t want to be cruel)_

QUINN - D-different.

NIKKI - Yeah.

QUINN - You didn’t see the v-video? You’d be the only f-fucking person on the planet.

_She looks down._

NIKKI - No. I mean… I heard about it. I didn’t wanna look. Is this…?

QUINN - Yeah. I’m.. I..

NIKKI - It’s OK, you don’t have to explain.

_Silence. If he doesn’t explain they’re gonna have nothing to talk about. And he can’t leave right now – can’t drive anywhere in this state._

QUINN - I h-had a stroke.

NIKKI - Shit. A stroke?

QUINN - Bad one. I ca-ca-can’t… I’m not. My talk… talking. And – ( _he picks up his left hand_ ). This doesn’t… and my leg. They taught me to… w-walk and talk, I couldn’t. After.

NIKKI - Jesus.       What can I do? You look – sorry – but you look terrible.

QUINN – _(He looks round)_ Can I… can I sleep?

NIKKI - Sure. Let me find you a key, we’re pretty empty.

QUINN - I can pay.

NIKKI - No need.

_She gets up, goes behind the counter. Looks at a board of hooks and keys._

Rita, I’m taking number 8. _(Rita raises her eyebrows)._ No, not for that… Jesus!

_(To Quinn)_ C’mon.

_They leave the diner, via his car, where he pulls out his kit bag, and walk around to the back of the diner, where there’s a row of rooms._

_She opens the door to one. He goes in, sits on the bed. Shimmies back to lean up against the pillow and wall._

NIKKI - You be OK?

QUINN - Can you stay and talk?

_She pauses. Is he trying it on?_

Not hitting on you. Just don’t… don’t feel great. Use some company.

NIKKI - Sure.

_She sits in the chair, out of harm’s way._

So you never hear from Dario?

QUINN - Not… not for _(shrugs)_. We were in Syria. Coupla years ago. N-not now.

So the new group. Not so much fun?

NIKKI - Definitely not. Noone’s like you guys.

QUINN - Who’s here?

NIKKI - I don’t know them all. Your guy came in last week.

QUINN - Guy?

NIKKI - Older guy. Your boss.

QUINN - McClendon?

NIKKI - Yeah.

QUINN - Still comes in?

NIKKI - First time in ages.

QUINN - What’d he want?

NIKKI - Dunno. Coffee. Lunch. Met one of the group.

QUINN - Who?

NIKKI - Am I being questioned here?

QUINN – _(A brief grin and nod)_ Yup.

NIKKI - Paul. He comes and goes. Curly hair.

QUINN - You got a picture?

NIKKI - No!

Oh – but he gave me his number.

QUINN - He did?

NIKKI - He’s like the rest of you _(raises an eyebrow)._

QUINN - But you took it?

NIKKI - Tips well. Didn’t wanna piss him off.

_She pulls out her phone. Gives it to him, showing the number._

_He opens his bag. The stinger’s in there. He looks at it, presses a couple of buttons. The number matches._

NIKKI - You looking for him?

_He switches off the stinger, throws the phone back._

QUINN - Nope.

_Clearly a lie. She sizes him up. Smiles.  
_

NIKKI – You’re not _that_ different.

_He smiles._

QUINN - Thank you.


	30. Homeland snap fanfic No.30 – The long wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Carrie and Quinn are ever going to talk about anything other than The Shit That’s Going Down, their long overnight wait opposite the Flag House is the obvious opportunity. Thought I’d try and move them from The Shit to something a little more personal.

_Quinn’s explained what he can of what’s happened since he left Bellevue. Carrie’s staggered, but it’s sinking in. Now they have to wait._

_He crosses to the wall. Pulls over a blanket to sit on, and one for Carrie. As he sits, can’t help wincing at the bullet wound._

CARRIE - You OK?

_No answer._

_He pulls his jacket aside, looks at the wound._

CARRIE - What’s that?

QUINN - B-bullet.

CARRIE - What?

_She looks closer. Can’t quite make out what she’s seeing. Flips the light on her phone. Sees the blood stain._

CARRIE - Jesus. Quinn…

_He drops his jacket back over it._

CARRIE - What the fuck?

_He points across the street._

QUINN - Him.

CARRIE - At the cabin?

_Nods._

CARRIE - Has it been treated?

QUINN - Yeah. I did.

_She boggles._

CARRIE - Seriously? Fuck me. It’s still bleeding.

You must love hospitals more than you make out because you’re gonna be right back inside with _another_ septic wound. It nearly killed you last time, and that was before… everything that happened to you. You don’t have a lot in the tank right now. You need to get this looked at.

QUINN - I’m fine.

CARRIE - Let me take you a doctor. You said yourself we’ve got ‘til morning.

_He pulls out a pill bottle from his pocket. Tramadol._

QUINN - I’ve got these.

CARRIE - Yeah, and they’re not supposed to be for treating the pain from a fucking gunshot wound.

_He knocks a pill back. Nothing more to say on the matter._

_With a heavy sigh, Carrie sits back onto the blanket beside him, leans against the wall. But she’s not done._

CARRIE - So… how you doing, gunshot wound aside?

QUINN – I’m fine.

CARRIE - You know, we’ve got a long night ahead of us. You might as well talk to me.

_He looks at her, irritated._

QUINN - About what?

CARRIE - About _what_? You came out of the hospital, got locked down by the ESU, ended up strapped to a bed in Bellevue, and now you’re hiding out in a dark house with a rifle trained across the street. It’s been a busy couple of weeks. I wanna know how you’re doing.

QUINN - Jesus, Carrie.

CARRIE - I know you don’t want to talk to me about what happened to you. What’s _happening_ to you. But you still have a brain injury. You had a seizure two weeks ago. When I took you out of the hospital I told the doctors – I told _myself_ \- I would take care of you, and I have no idea what’s going on with you. I know talking is not exactly your thing, but seriously, I think you owe me.

QUINN - W-what is there to say?

CARRIE - I don’t know. How it feels? How _you_ feel? I mean… since Berlin, your life has changed, and I’m just… outside looking in.

QUINN - You w-were with me. In the… _(searches for the word)_ hospital. You know.

CARRIE - Well, yeah. But after it happened, you _couldn’t_ talk. Then as soon as you could, you didn’t want to.

We spent a lot of time together at the hospital. I hate seeing you sick, but I… liked spending time together. And now, I have no fucking idea what’s going on with you.

_A long silence. She’s not sure if she’s overstepped the mark and it’s subject closed, or if he’s thinking. Eventually…_

QUINN - I don’t… I can’t say things… right. It’s hard to talk you… _tell_ you. I don’t even know. What it feels. Feels like. Sometimes I feel right and like I know. Things. Then f-find out I’m wrong. Feels… not me. Stupid.

CARRIE - Well, _that’s_ not true.

_A questioning look._

CARRIE - Stupid? Shit, Quinn – you uncovered a terrorist plot from my fucking basement.

One minute I leave you locked up in Bellevue, and the next you’re here with a semi-automatic on the perpetrators of what looks like some serious fucking treason. I’d say you’re pretty much on your game.

_His eyes widen a moment. Looks down, thinking, momentarily overwhelmed. Could she be right? Her description of events is true. She knows him. She knows the job._

_After Astrid’s “you’re different”, and Nikki’s shock at the diner, he’d settled into the depressing assumption that he was obviously, shamefully, inescapably, altered. But Carrie sees something else. And it’s **Carrie** that sees it, of all people. That matters in a way that makes him feel… strange. Feel something he can’t understand or describe right now._

_He goes to say something but doesn’t quite have the words. It comes out half nervous laugh, half cough. Tries again._

QUINN - I thought I’d… changed. I mean _(gestures at his body) .._ and… ( _taps his head)_.

_She looks at him._

CARRIE - Well. The PTSD’s worse, I think that’s pretty fair to say. The paranoia… you were kind of out of it at Bellevue, but they’d just beat the shit out of you, I can’t blame you for thinking people were out to get you. You’ve been right about pretty much everything else.

The aphasia, the dropfoot, all that stuff – that’s pretty much irrelevant. To me.

_Those last two words. Change everything. He suddenly looks directly up at her, straight into her eyes._


	31. Homeland snap fanfic No.31 - Hop needs to talk to you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because Franny is a chip off the old block when it comes to persuading people to do things they don’t want to do. And because I need a little lightness to alleviate the pre-12 tension… set post 6.12, just.

_Carrie and Franny sit in the living room, playing with Franny’s toys._

_The doorbell goes. Carrie gets up and goes through to answer it._

_It’s Quinn. Black holdall over his shoulder._

_She opens the door._

CARRIE - Hey!

QUINN - Hey.

CARRIE - It’s good to see you. 

_She steps aside to let him in, but he stays where he is._

QUINN - I just… I…

_Her lips tighten - this doesn’t feel like it’s going to be good._

QUINN - I c-came to say goodbye.

CARRIE - Goodbye?     Where are you going?

_He looks down.  
_

You know you can stay here…

_Awkward moment…_

I mean - the basement. No strings. Just….

If you need somewhere. It’s… it’s all yours.

QUINN - I… wanted to say sorry. If I was an asshole.

FRANNY - _(From the living room)_ Who is it, mommy?

_She steps round the doorway into the hall  
_

Peteeeer! She runs to him and flings her arms around him. 

_He’s stunned, thrown - didn’t realise she was here._

Are you better? Mommy said you were at the doctor’s. 

_Questioning look at Carrie._

CARRIE - Bellevue. 

QUINN - Ah ah yes, I am, Franny. Thank you.

_She grabs his hand._

FRANNY - Come with me, Hop needs to talk to you.

_She pulls him in through the front door. He takes a step in with her then stops. She’s so enthusiastic she just carries on, letting go of his hand, but then comes to a stop in the doorway to the living room and looks back at him._

Put your bag down silly, come on! 

_He doesn’t move._

_She rolls her eyes melodramatically and goes in through the door  
_

I’m coming, Hop! Peter’s here to see you!

_He looks at Carrie.  
_

_A long, long pause.  
_

_He puts his bag down.  
_

_Walks slowly into the living room.  
_

_Carrie, in the hall, leans her back against the wall and looks up to the ceiling - the smallest glimmer of hope passes across her face._


	32. Homeland snap fanfic No.32 - Hand on heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If I write happy endings enough times, does that mean it'll happen?

_Time: 6.12. Location: Anywhere - who cares, just let it happen._

CARRIE - Listen, Quinn. What you said… _(She reaches out and touches his heart)_ … this…  
   
_He pulls away, she lowers her hand._  
   
It’s just not true.  
   
QUINN - Don’t, Carrie.  
   
CARRIE - How you feel about Astrid’s death? That’s not the sign of a man with no heart.  
   
_He looks away. Resists - just - the temptation to tell her to fuck off. He doesn’t want to listen to this._  
   
You sitting on Franny’s bed, talking about Peter Rabbit? That was not a man with no heart. And trying to protect her, no matter what?  
   
QUINN – But it always ends badly.  
   
CARRIE - Until it doesn’t.     Some wiseass told me that once _(she gives a half, fleeting smile at the memory)._  
   
You protecting the President, whatever the risk - that didn’t end badly, and it took a man with more heart than anyone I’ve ever known. You know what’s right and you put yourself on the line for it, again and again - what else _is_ there?

_A pause._  
   
Look. I’ve told you… _(Oh God, this is hard for her)_  
   
…you know how I feel - _(Shit, she’s actually going to say this aloud - steels herself, her voice cracks)_  
   
I love you. So much. And you might not feel the same way about me, you might want me to let you go. There’s nothing I can do about that. Though it will break my fucking heart.  
   
But I will NOT let you walk away from here hating yourself. After everything you’ve been through – torture, pain, fear – all of it – you of all people have the right to believe that the world is a bad place. But you still keep fighting for good. You nearly lost your life doing it. YOU are not one of the bad people in this world. Please believe me. There is nothing about yourself that you should hate.  
   
_She can’t help herself. This might be the last time she gets to be close to him. She touches his chest again. This time he doesn’t move away. He looks at her hand. Then looks to her face - he’s biting back tears. Places his hand over hers. Holds it there. She steps towards him. He doesn’t resist. Tentatively, she steps forward again, and they both lower their hands, fingers still touching. She rests her head against his chest. She leans in, and he holds her. She feels his heart beating._


	33. Homeland snap fanfic No.33 - On the Shore of the Wide World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thought I’d write that beachside ending that Rupert Friend - and no doubt the rest of us - fancied for Quinn. Title [stolen from Simon Stephens](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/On_the_Shore_of_the_Wide_World), who [stole it from John Keats](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/When_I_have_Fears_that_I_may_Cease_to_Be), who turns out - appropriately enough - to have written it in a poem called “When I have Fears that I may Cease to Be”. So let’s put those fears to bed for Peter Quinn, for a short while, at least.

_In the car._

KEANE - What was his name?

CARRIE - Peter Quinn.

KEANE - Peter Quinn.

_After the moment of stillness, chaos breaks out – security officers – thank God not from the Deltas – reach in and grab Keane, drag her out, into another car and drive off. More of them grab Carrie and pull her out, while another yanks open the driver’s door, reaches in, puts two fingers to Quinn’s neck.  
_

_Moments before Carrie is shoved into another car and driven off, she hears a shout - “He’s alive, get me a medic…” – she turns, tries to get back to Quinn – how the fuck did she miss that he was clinging on in there? But she’s forced into the car, the door slammed behind her.  
_

_She looks back through the rear window as it screeches off, and sees paramedics running to Quinn, dragging him out of the car and lying him on the ground. Then the car turns a corner and he’s gone from sight._

—

_Carrie’s phone rings. She answers._

CARRIE - Dar. Where is he? Did he make it?

DAR - I’m sorry, Carrie. 

CARRIE - No. No - don’t tell me that…

DAR - He lost a lot of blood, and he wasn’t strong to begin with. He’d been bleeding from a shoulder wound for several days already, and his health… wasn’t great. You know that. 

CARRIE - I just…

DAR - He made the choice to drive the President Elect out of that basement. He died doing what he knew was right. That’s as much as we could have hoped for him. I’m sorry.

CARRIE - Shit.  

Shit.

So what happens next?

DAR - Well, I don’t think you’ll be seeing much of me. They’ll catch up with me soon I’m sure, and I don’t suppose there’ll be a great deal of leniency shown.

_For a moment, she doesn’t know what to say._

CARRIE - Well. Good luck… I guess.

DAR - And to you.

_He hangs up. He’s sitting at a hospital bedside. In the bed – Quinn. Eyes closed._

_A nurse comes in._

NURSE - I’m sorry to interrupt you.

DAR - That’s OK. He’s sleeping.

NURSE - We’ve just been told he’s being transferred. 

DAR - Oh?  _(Dar’s evidently not surprised – though the nurse doesn’t notice)_

NURSE - I’m not impressed. He’s not in good enough condition for this, but it’s arrived with a security embargo – we don’t even know where he’s going. I just have to get him ready. Would you excuse us?

DAR - Of course. 

_He stands, reaches down and touches Quinn’s hand. Quinn opens his eyes a little, looks up at him._

Goodbye, Peter.

_Quinn watches, silently, as Dar leaves the room. The nurse steps forward to the bed._

—

_Six months later._

_A car speeds down an empty road. The driver takes a little-used turning, follows the road a few miles more through the woods, as it twists and turns. Eventually he pulls up behind a cabin, just where the trees give way to a sunny beach. Another, smaller cabin is visible through the trees. There are probably a few more, strewn down the coast, just a handful here and there.  
_

_He gets out of the car. Takes a black holdall from the other seat, slings it over his shoulder. Walks, with a slight limp, around the side of the cabin to the beach._

_A woman is stretched out on a lounger reading a book; a young boy plays on the sand a short distance away. The man drops his bag and walks over to her. She stands as she sees him approach._

JULIA – Hey. You found it.

DAVID - I did. It’s beautiful.

_They regard each other for a moment. It’s been a while._

JULIA - How you doing?

_He nods, thoughtfully. Not gonna commit._

DAVID – You?

JULIA - I’m good. ( _She looks across to the boy_.) John! Come here.

_The boy looks up, drops the toy plane he’s been playing with and walks across._

This is David. He’s a friend of mine. He’s going to stay in the little cabin for a while this summer, hang out with us. That OK?

_The boy looks up at him, squinting a little in the sun. The man looks familiar, even though the boy’s sure he’s never seen him before. Short dark hair, blue eyes. The man’s looking equally intently back._

JOHN - Sure.

JULIA - You can show him your fish traps in the creek.  _(To David)_  We’ve had a little trouble making them work. Think you can help?

DAVID - Sure.

 _She smiles._

JULIA – Well, you guys are as talkative as each other, this is gonna be a fun summer.

DAVID - I’m sorr-

JULIA - /I’m kidding.  _(She nods at the bag)_ Let’s get you settled in.

_David picks up the bag, follows Julia as she walks towards the little cabin._

_John stays where he is. David looks round, smiles gently at him._

DAVID - Wanna come?

_John smiles back.  
_

JOHN - Sure.

_He follows._


	34. Homeland snap fanfic No.34 - Turning round the trashbag scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wasn’t sure I was going to write any more of these, but this one popped up in my head today, and I kinda liked it and thought some other people might too.

_The basement. Carrie crying over Quinn’s photos. Max sits beside her.  
_

MAX - Ah, Carrie.

_He places his arm round her as she sobs. Eventually the tears subside and they both sit, looking down at the photos on the table._

MAX - Is this his kid?

CARRIE - Yeah.

_She picks up the baby photo, turns it over to show him._

John Junior.

MAX - John. Huh. I did  _not_  know that.

CARRIE - I think there’s a lot we didn’t know.

_Max sees the most recent photo of John._

MAX - Gees. Baby Quinn.

CARRIE - Yeah… ( _She wells up again)._

_Max looks down at the trash bag by her feet._

MAX - You shouldn’t throw all these out.

_He pulls out a shirt, folds it carefully on his knee._

CARRIE - Well, what else am I gonna do with them? Set up some kind of shrine?

MAX -  _(Takes out a second shirt, folds it too, stacking them neatly on top of each other)_ I don’t know. But… he left so little behind  _(He smooths the top shirt gently with his hand)_.

_She doesn’t know what to say._

MAX - I’ll put these back in the drawer. For now.

_He goes to the bedroom, opens a drawer, and lays them respectfully inside. Walks back into the living room._

MAX - How was…  _(indicates upstairs)_?

CARRIE - Good. Clean bill of health. We’re putting in for a new court date, hopefully she can come home after that.

MAX - That’s great.

CARRIE - Yeah. It is.

MAX - I’m sorry…  _(he indicates the bed, his earlier state)._

CARRIE - It’s OK. You were pretty out of it…

MAX - Yeah.

CARRIE - You struggling?

MAX - I guess it’s opened up… some old stuff.

CARRIE - Don’t let it pull you under, Max.

MAX - I just… He went through so much, Carrie. He was such a mess in the hospital, he got through the seizures and the paralysis, learning how to fucking walk, talk, eat, everything from scratch, he was getting there. I just thought he’d come out the other end eventually. Find some kind of peace.

CARRIE - I don’t know if  _he_  thought that. He was never great at finding peace.

_They look down at the photos. Both thinking that he’s at peace now and they really wish – selfishly – that he wasn’t, that he was still here making their lives difficult._

MAX - I should go, I guess.

CARRIE - OK. Thanks for coming over.

MAX - Sorry. Again. Call me. Whenever.

CARRIE - I will. Thanks, Max.

_He lets himself out._

_Carrie picks up the photos, tucks them back into the envelope, slides it back into the book._

_Takes the book into the bedroom, opens the drawer to place it in. Sees the folded shirts. Pauses. She puts the book down on top of the dresser, lifts the top shirt out… and can’t resist – buries her face in it. Breathes in. The shirt smells intoxicatingly of Quinn. He’d got himself clean eventually, so it’s a good smell – salty, masculine, familiar. A smell she didn’t know she recognised until this very moment. Still holding the shirt, she turns and walks to the bed._

_Same again – she pauses, wonders whether to do this, but gives in to the pull. Kicks her shoes off, lifts the cover and climbs into the bed, rests her head on the pillow, pulls the covers up around her, holds his shirt to her face, completely enveloped in his smell, his presence so recent it suddenly seems within reach again. The covers, the smell, the sense of occupying his space, bring a sudden wave of warmth across her. She closes her eyes, and drifts off into a deep, comforted sleep._


	35. Homeland snap fanfic No.35 - Carrie and Clarice in the car to Queens

CARRIE - So how d’you come to be delivering messages for Quinn? 

CLARICE - He called me.

CARRIE - Yeah, I get that. Why? Who are you?

CLARICE – ( _Eyes her cagily)_ A friend. You?

CARRIE - I’m sorry?

CLARICE – How d’you know him?

CARRIE - A friend. Well, we worked together.

CLARICE – You a soldier? You don’t look like a soldier.

CARRIE - No. I work… _worked_ for the CIA.

CLARICE – _(Sceptical_ ). CIA? What, Peter worked in the CIA?

CARRIE - Yeah. We both did. 

CLARICE – I thought he was a soldier. That’s how he got wounded.

CARRIE - He was both.

CLARICE – So what happened to him?

CARRIE - And you know him how, exactly? He’s been in the hospital for six months, he’s not had a lot of time for making friends. 

CLARICE – Ahhh… we had some fun together. He came to visit us.

CARRIE - Us? 

CLARICE – Me and Justine. We work together.

CARRIE - Huh. OK. So _you’re_ the hooker.

CLARICE – ( _Eyebrows raised at the bluntness)._ If that’s the word you wanna use. Yeah, I’m the hooker. You got a problem with that? 

CARRIE - He’s a vulnerable man. He has a brain injury. He doesn’t make good decisions. He did _not_ need to be… screwing strangers and taking drugs. 

CLARICE – He’s an adult, sweetie. Far as I could tell, he didn’t have a lot of fun in his life. That’s all we were. Fun.

CARRIE - So was that your place I found him in? Couple of weeks ago? Covered in blood, half naked, alone? That didn’t look like fun to me.

CLARICE – Oh. Yeah. That was pretty bad. Tommy gets kinda jumpy sometimes.

CARRIE - Tommy?

CLARICE – He hit him. I tried to talk him out of it, but.. 

CARRIE - And who’s… _(she’s about to ask more, but shakes her head_ ) Oh Jesus, you know what, I don’t even want to know. 

How about the bath – was that you too?

CLARICE – The bath?

CARRIE - Someone left him in the bath overnight in that hell hole and he couldn’t get out. The hospital had to go find him. He was blue by the time they got to him. He nearly caught pneumonia. 

CLARICE – Oh. Shit. I dunno. I did put him in the bath one time. He was kinda stinky. And now you mention it, I don’t remember getting him out. I figured he’d get himself out I guess.

CARRIE - Christ. He could hardly walk, you really thought he was gonna get himself out of the bath in one piece? What if he’d had a seizure? He could’ve drowned. 

CLARICE – Listen. If you’re gonna shout at me all the way, I can just pull over now, you can walk home down the freeway.

CARRIE - Where are we going?

CLARICE – So you two are just colleagues? 

CARRIE - Former colleagues.

CLARICE – This is a lot of trouble to go to for a colleague. Was he living in your house? I thought it was some kind of group home. 

CARRIE - No. It was my house. He was living in the basement apartment.

CLARICE – That’s definitely a lot of trouble to go to for a colleague.

CARRIE - You should really know when to stop asking questions.

CLARICE – That’s kind of ironic, honey. You’re the spy.

CARRIE - Jesus. Could we just shut the fuck up for a bit?

_Pause._

CLARICE – He didn’t tell me you’d be so rude. I’m just trying to help out.

CARRIE – _(Sighs. Obviously shutting up is not on the cards)_. Right. So… how did he end up in Queens? I mean… last time I saw him, he was on the locked ward at Bellevue. 

CLARICE – You know, I think you got that wrong. He’s helping a friend in Queens - their house is being renovated, he’s staying there, keeping an eye on it.

CARRIE - You saw him there? 

CLARICE – Sure. That’s where we made the video. He called me. Asked me to come see him.

CARRIE - _Paid_ you to go see him?

CLARICE – _(Shrugs)_ Maybe. 

CARRIE - Jesus. 

CLARICE – You need to stop looking at me like there’s shit under your nose, lady. He asked me for help. I’m a businesswoman. I can help him, so I do, and he pays me for my time. I’m not his fucking carer. How come you don’t even know where he’s been if he’s supposed to be living in your basement?

_Carrie fumes. Looks out of the window. No answer._


	36. Homeland snap fanfic No.36 - Max writes to John Jr

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max is such a good man, I thought that after seeing Quinn’s pictures, he might write a letter to John Jr about his dad, for Julia to give him when he’s older. Rather awesomely, when I posted this on Tumblr/Twitter Maury read it and tweeted me to say "This is lovely." Which made me VERY happy.

Dear John

You don’t know me, but I was a friend of your Dad’s. I guess you didn’t know your Dad, either, so maybe this letter won’t be of interest to you. But I think it probably will. Kids always need to know about their dads, and you’re probably no exception.

You know by now, I guess, that he was in a line of work where people change their names a lot. Your Mom knew him as John, but for several years while I worked with him, he was Peter Quinn.

By now you’ve probably also read about him, how he was a “hero”, and maybe some of the things he went through. I’m not going to write about any of that, because you can read about it, and anyway, none of that was who your Dad really was. And only the people who knew him can tell you that.

He was one of the rudest, most belligerent people I’ve ever met! And I say that as someone who – I only realise this now he’s gone – loved him dearly. He never said anything he didn’t mean – and for a spy, that’s pretty remarkable. His honesty and integrity went so deep that he would rather be silent than lie. And in a game so full of liars, that meant he was very often silent. A useful trait for a spy to have.

He was sharp and intelligent. He could read individual people, and complex situations. He could plan, and analyse, and make the right decision in a split second, even when – especially when – lives depended on it. He always seemed to me to be completely without fear. I don’t know if that’s true, or if he was just great at pretending to be brave. Another useful spy skill that he’d totally mastered.

You might wonder why he wasn’t in your life. I can only speculate, but I do know the life that he led, which was full of risk and danger – and I figure he wanted you to have a settled life, free of worry. If you had known him, your childhood would have been full of fear, wondering where he was, what he was doing, and when he would next arrive or leave. He knew that was not the mark of a good father, and decided to stay away. Probably only you will know if that was the right decision.

What I can tell you is that when he died, he left behind the bare minimum of possessions: A few clothes and one book, Great Expectations. Inside the book there was an envelope of photographs of you, which your Mom must have sent him as you grew. He kept them with him everywhere he went: Afghanistan, Pakistan, Syria, Berlin, right through his time in the hospital and into his final home, staying with a friend of ours in New York. In his line of work he would have had many long spells of time when he had to lie low, keep quiet, and wait, and I think he must have looked at your photographs often during those times: Read his book, and looked at his photos, and thought of you.

For the six months before he died, things were tough for him. He was sick, and his brain and body didn’t always do what he wanted. That was hard for someone who had always been so completely capable and in control. But one thing never changed. More than anyone else I’ve ever known, he had an unshakeable moral core. He believed in doing the right thing, and he did it. The right thing for America, first and foremost – he was a patriot, and a servant. But also the right thing for the people around him, and for the people way beyond his sphere, in the wider world. Everything he ever did – both before and after he got sick – came from that morality. It remained completely intact even when so many other things about him changed, and that speaks volumes about the man he was.

I’m sorry that you never got to meet him. But now you know that he was proud of you, and he loved you, and he was a good man, and that’s as much as I can offer. I hope it helps.

Your friend,

Max


End file.
